


All The Hate In My Heart And Love In My Soul

by eihpos



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Consensual Sex, Hand Jobs, Love, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Nygmobblepot, Oral Sex, Sadness, Season 3 Spoilers, The Court of Owls - Freeform, Trapped, mentions of Isabella - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-01 12:19:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 36,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10921677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eihpos/pseuds/eihpos
Summary: Ed and Oswald find themselves trapped by The Court of Owls, once they escape, what will become of their tumultuous relationship?This is a slow burn Nygmobblepot fic that takes place in season 3B, but bears no real relation to the events in those episodes.





	1. Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward and Oswald find themselves trapped side by side in the clutches of the Court of Owls.

Oswald gripped the bars of his cell firmly, not breaking his stare. His lip quivered as if there were words deep inside of him desperate to escape, but no sound emerged. He concentrated on his breathing, _in, out, in out_. That’s all he could muster. His right leg trembled involuntarily, and Oswald gritted his teeth. He must remain calm.

 

On hearing Edward’s voice, he had been rushed with emotions; everything he’d been feeling since waking up in Ivy Pepper’s greenhouse. The anger, the pain, the bitterness, the betrayal, but most of all, he felt sad. The sadness was overwhelming as it poured over him while he looked into the dark eyes of his former friend. For weeks he’d thought of nothing else than getting revenge on the man he had once loved. He thought of returning the favour and putting a bullet in his long slim body. Unlike Ed though, Oswald would be sure not to miss something vital. Now those homicidal thoughts had been pushed aside, and replaced by anguish and emptiness, and a pit in his stomach that continued to get heavier.

 

Edward stared back. His mouth agape in astonishment at the sight before him. Oswald was dead, and yet, here he was. Was this a trick? Was this another hallucination? No, it had been weeks since Ed had stopped taking the pills, and he’d had no issues with having visions of Oswald, or anybody else for that matter, since. No. This was real. 

 

His gaze remained unbroken and unblinking. He desperately wanted the small man before him to break the silence, as Ed had already run out of things to say. The only way he had managed to regain his sanity, take back control of his own mind, was to put Oswald to rest and forget about him. But he was back, and Edward was not sure what to do about it. Could he strangle him through the bars? Os had reached through once in an attempt to grab him, surely it wouldn’t be hard. And even on a bad day, Edward was sure he could overpower his old companion. What would The Court do if he killed him? Probably nothing they weren’t already planning on doing. 

 

Removing his glasses and fiddling with his jumpsuit, pretending to clean the lenses as a pointless distraction, Ed started pacing.

 

“How’s the food here?”

 

The Riddler spun around, looking deep into Oswald’s pale green eyes. “What?”

 

“You’ve been here a day or two, haven’t you? Are they feeding you? You look thin.” came the matter-of-fact response.

 

Ed frowned in confusion.

 

“It’s not like you to be speechless,” Oswald smiled smugly. 

 

“I… I’m not… Oswald. You’re alive! How?” 

 

Rolling his eyes, Penguin slumped down on the floor and leaned against the bars between their cages. It felt like he had been starring at Edward for an eternity, and it was starting to shake his resolve. “If I didn’t die, I must be alive. That’s how, I just didn’t die.”

 

“Don’t be smart with me, you owe me an explanation!”

 

Oswald laughed, a laugh he hadn’t experienced in what felt like a lifetime. It started in his stomach and erupted through his chest in astonishment. “I _owe_ you?” he replied, wide eyed and having trouble containing himself. “Edward Nygma, you shot me in the stomach and pushed me into the harbour. I _owe_ you exactly nothing.” he spat. 

 

“You killed Isabella.”

 

“Not this again-“

 

“Yes this again! Why are you here when you should be rotting at the bottom of the sea?!” Ed yelled. He hadn’t meant to, but raising his voice felt out of his control, he was shaking, he was seeing red, he was seeing Oswald, and that wasn’t right.

 

“Like I told our dear friend Detective Gordon, Ed, I’m quite hard to kill.”

 

Edward’s pacing picked up speed as he ground his teeth, trying not to let all the words on the tip of his tongue out at once. He had been working on suppressing his emotions in times of stress, but this might be too much. The nerve, the absolute nerve of this person, someone who was once his best friend, to not give him the benefit of explaining himself. Ed balled his fists, his nails digging deep into his palms. He concentrated on his breathing, _in, out, in out_. What was he going to do? What could he do? The reality of their situation hit him like a slap to the face. He could do nothing. Not right now, anyway.

Edward looked down at Penguin, slumped on the ground. It was quite a different picture than he was used to. The man was looking smaller than ever, drowning in an ugly grey jumpsuit that was at least two sizes too big for him. He looked pathetic, and Ed found himself almost pitying him. Almost. 

 

“They last fed me what I estimate to be around six hours ago. It wasn’t pleasant.”

 

“Oh good, I arrived in time for dinner.” Oswald grumbled.

 

Much to his distain, Ed smiled, but quickly erased any trace from his face. Os had his back to him, but he still would not give the little man the satisfaction of making him feel anything, good or bad. He had lost that right months ago. While once he revelled in seeing his friend happy, and sharing that happiness with him, the laughs, the smiles, the hugs, the absolute joy, that was a lifetime ago, and a time he had been working on wiping from his memory. What good were those memories to him now, now that he knew it had all been a lie?

 

“How did you end up here?”

 

Oswald hugged his good leg against his chest, shivering. How had he? The obvious answer was that Jim Gordon had lead him, but the less obvious, and possibly even more correct answer was a series of questionable choices. 

 

“You know me, I always manage to insert myself into trouble.”

 

Resting his chin on his arm, Os sighed deeply. It was true, not just regarding how he ended up in the clutches of The Court, but it could be the title of his autobiography. No matter where he turned, there was trouble, and as much as he didn’t like to admit it to himself, Oswald knew he brought much of it upon himself. 

 

The silence had returned, save for Edward’s soft footsteps as he paced his cage. Somehow their conditions were even more grim than Arkham. At least at the Asylum you knew what you were up against. The screams of the criminally insane reminded you that you were not alone, the regular visits from guards were a sign that nobody had forgotten about you, the routine was monotonous, but at least it existed. There were signs of life. Here, Oswald was scared. He didn’t know where The Court had taken him, what they planned to do with him, or why they would put him into a cage directly next to the man they must have known had tried to murder him. As far as he could tell, the dark, damp room they were in was _full_ of empty cages. Of course they put him in _this_ one. 

He fidgeted with a button of his jumpsuit. The nerve of them to take his clothes from him, as if the indignity of being gaoled with his lunatic best fri- former best friend, wasn’t insult enough. The button popped off and Oswald threw it across his cage. 

 

“I’m going to sleep.” he mumbled to nobody in particular.

 

“Didn’t you want dinner?” Ed enquired.

 

Oswald did not respond.

 

 

** *** **

 

 

He did not know what time it was, but Oswald supposed that it must be morning, considering how well rested he felt. The cage’s bedding facilities left much to be desired, as a damp floor and scratchy blanket were a far cry from the Egyptian cotton he had become accustomed to at the mansion, but the previous day had worn him out; emotionally and physically. 

He snuck a glance over his shoulder at his adjoining cage. Edward was curled up in a ball, wrapped tightly in his own blanket, apparently still asleep. Nothing about his own cage had changed, except for a small plate across from him. Upon closer inspection, Oswald saw it contained a piece of bread, and half an apple. He scoffed softly. For an organisation who supposedly ran Gotham, The Court certainly were cheapskates. He kicked the plate into the bars, causing a loud clang to ring out in their prison.

 

“Wha?” Edward leapt up, as though he’d been electrocuted, and scanned his surroundings, searching for the source of the noise. The blanket fell from his shoulders and pooled at his feet.

 

“Morning,” Oswald mumbled, not looking up from his hateful glare at the plate. “just greeting my breakfast.”

 

“Would you mind doing it a little quieter next time?” Ed grunted, snatching up his blanket and wrapping it around himself. Their prison was freezing and the walls seemed to go on forever, allowing no heat to stay trapped inside. The Riddler put his glasses on and glanced over at his reacquainted room mate. It looked like Oswald had got a much better rest than he had, but Ed recognised that look. He recognised the darkness in Os’s eyes, his tense posture and slight quiverin his leg. Penguin was angry.

 

“Next time?” Os asked inquisitively, looking up at Ed, eyes wide and glowing. “There won’t _be_ a next time, I’m getting out. Today.”

 

“How?”

 

The smaller man scoffed, and hobbled over to the bars separating them. He was close enough that if he wanted to, he could have reached out and punched Edward in the face. Wrapped his hand around his thin, pale neck. Kissed him. But instead he stared. A night’s rest had done a world of good for Oswald’s resolve. Despite spending weeks plotting his revenge on his old friend, now seeing him here, he’d had a change of heart. Not out of some kind of misguided notion of friendship or mercy, but Os had bigger fish to fry, he did not have time to be worrying about Edward Nygma. He needed to get out and reclaim his throne. 

 

“That,” he smiled condescendingly. “is none of your business.” he spun around and walked towards his discarded plate, picked it up, and stashed it in the pocket of his hideous jumpsuit. 

 

Edward frowned in concern. Oswald was bold, and had always been overly ambitious. It was one of the things that first drew Ed’s attention, and something he grew to admire greatly about his former friend. No matter the situation, Os always seemed to find a way to make things work for him. He never let his stature, his bad leg, his poor upbringing, or his unusual appearance get to him. There was always a way to turn things around. This, however, seemed like a fool’s errand. They were in a long, dark room full of cages, locked inside two of those cages, with no idea where they were located, or even where the exit was.

 

“Wouldn’t it be advantageous if we worked together?”

 

“Don’t you remember what happened last time we worked together, Ed?” Oswald asked, still smiling cruelly. “Because I sure do.” He pulled apart the middle of his jumpsuit, the exact spot where he’d accidentally removed a button the previous night. 

 

Ed looked down at Oswald’s exposed abdomen and could not help but let out a gasp. Of course he knew Os would have a scar, that was the nature of bullet wounds, and Ed had seen his fair share during his time at the GCPD. He wasn’t, however, prepared to see this. The scar was unpleasant, to put it lightly. It had obviously healed with a great deal of difficulty, and had not been tended to by a trained physician. It was far bigger than he’d imagined, and far more discoloured and rough looking than the other bullet scars he knew Oswald had. It spread across Penguin’s tiny body, taking up far too much room, imposing itself upon his cold, white skin. 

 

“Does it hurt?” Ed asked, before he could stop himself.

 

Oswald looked up in astonishment, his face painting a confused picture of disgust and surprise. He wrapped his arms around his middle, hiding the scar. “Some wounds never fully heal, Edward.” Throwing his blanket over his head and torso, Os slumped once more against the bars, and planted himself on the clammy ground. He removed the plate from his pocket, and turned it in his hand. Edward was right. They needed to work together, but Oswald was definitely not going to let Ed be the one to suggest it.

 

 

** *** **

 

 

“What are you muttering?” Oswald asked grumpily some hours later. It was difficult to have a proper sense of time, not having access to a clock or sunlight, but since Os had angrily exposed his scar through the bars, lunch and dinner had been delivered to their cages by silent masked men. 

 

Ed ignored him and continued pacing. He had to keep his mind active, lest he go insane, or worse, spend too much time thinking about the man imprisoned beside him. If Oswald had a plan to escape, Edward wanted to be a part of it, but his pride kept shutting down the mere thought of it. How could he work with Os after all that had happened? _No_ , he’d rather rot in this cage forever. _No_ , that’s not right. He could use Oswald to escape, and then kill him. Properly, this time. How many people get the chance to murder the person who wronged them twice? _No_ , he needed to stop thinking like that. Since coming to terms with having murdered his best friend, since giving up the hallucinations and the pills, Edward had been doing better. He was functioning far better not thinking about Oswald at all, and that’s what he needed to keep doing. Escape, and then forget about him. Again. 

 

“Oswald,” he murmured. “how would you feel about a truce?”

 

Penguin’s head emerged from his blanket and peered through the bars. “A truce?”

 

“Yes.” Ed hummed thoughtfully. “We work together to escape but after that, nothing. No revenge, no being arch enemies, no blowing up each other’s homes. A truce, and then we forget each other ever existed.”

 

Os was annoyed, mostly because he wished he’d thought of the idea first. “I _suppose_ I’ve heard worse suggestions, though you’ll understand why I might not trust you.”

 

“Neither of us has any reason to trust the other.” Ed explained, sitting down in his cage besides Oswald, close enough to feel the heat radiating from under his blanket fort. “That’s why it will work. You have wronged me, and I have wronged you. I would say that makes us even.”

 

Oswald opened his mouth to respond, but Edward got in first.

 

“I know you are going to reply with something snarky about how what I did to you was supposedly worse, but let’s not go there. What's done is done.” he said matter-of-factly.

 

Hugging the blanket around himself tighter, Os nodded in begrudging agreement. A lot had changed in Ed since that day at the harbour. Not just his flashy clothes and desperate attention seeking antics, but his voice. Oswald had noticed a few times during his short mayoral career that Ed had started lowering his voice, but it had only been at opportune times, now it seemed to be a permanent fixture. Second nature. It was part of him now. It would have been foolish for him to think that his attempted murder wouldn’t have effected Edward at all. Oswald supposed he’d only hoped it hadn’t effected Ed, as it would make him all the easier to hate. But behind the new Riddler persona Edward had crafted, Os still saw his old friend. The one who had insecurities, and doubts, the one desperate for approval and appreciation. The one who had loved and lost, and then loved and lost again. He could still see his friend, despite it all.

 

“Ok.”

 

Edward leant back on the bars so they were resting back to back. The familiarity with which their bodies pressed together was both comforting and alarming, but he didn’t care. They sat in silence, breathing deeply in unison as they shivered against the bitter cold. Ed had been freezing since he’d arrived in the cage, but based on how much Oswald’s tiny frame was shaking, he had it much worse. Pausing for a moment to make sure he wasn’t going entirely insane, Edward slowly moved his hand inside of the adjoining cage, reaching back for his companion’s arm. Slipping his hand under Os’s blanket, he grasped onto the freezing, trembling hand he found underneath, and gripped it firmly.

 

Oswald’s eyes widened in surprise and his breath got caught in his throat. 

 

“Edward, wha-“

 

“We’ll never escape if you get horribly ill from the cold. Sharing body heat is a proven strategy employed by explorers in arctic conditions in order to stay alive. I doubt we’ll freeze to death, but I want us both in top shape before our escape.”

 

"If you say so." Oswald mumbled, fighting to keep his voice from shaking. Tempting fate, he tightened his grip on Edward’s hand, wrapping them both in his blanket. It couldn’t have been comfortable for Ed to have his arm twisting through the bars, but Os wasn’t about to fight him on it. 

 

 

** *** **

 

 

“Oswald.”

 

Os’s eyes snapped open. He hadn’t been asleep, but rather in a lovely limbo, somewhere he was warm and safe. Somewhere that was definitely not here. How long he had been in that state he did not know, but somehow the vast room they were in seemed to have gotten even darker.

 

“Hmm?”

 

Ed was falling asleep himself, his grip on Oswald’s hand weakening, but he did not let go. 

 

“Do you regret it?”

 

Oswald was tempted to ask what ‘it’ was, but he knew better than to try that with The Riddler. Of course he knew. He considered the question carefully, it was one he had pondered over many times before. Did he regret having Isabella killed? He considered lying, what harm would it do? It was a yes or no question, easy enough to weasel out of. No, they had agreed on a truce. It didn’t matter anymore what Ed thought of him. The truth would neither help nor hinder him, but a lie could certainly make things worse.

 

“Knowing what I know now?” he responded drowsily. “Yes.”

 

“Knowing that I shot you, you mean?”

 

“Yes, partly that.” Os chucked softly. “But also knowing how much it would hurt you. How much it would _change_ you. I regret that very deeply. I thought I was acting out of love, but it was only love for myself. I regret doing it for those reasons, but I also know I would probably do it all over again if given the opportunity.”

 

"I suppose that's something." Edward squeezed Oswald’s hand softly. “Thank you.” he whispered.

 

“Do you?”

 

“Do I what?”

 

Oswald bit his lip. He knew he shouldn’t ask, not now, not while things were going better than he could have expected. But he couldn’t help himself.

 

“Do you regret what you did?”

 

“Sometimes.” Edward answered honestly. He saw no reason to lie, besides, Oswald knew him well enough to see through any dishonesty, and that surely would not end well.

 

Os smiled to himself. “I can live with that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 29.5.17- minor corrections and additions


	2. Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by photos released from the upcoming episode 3X19, Edward and Oswald escape The Court and must figure out what to do next.
> 
> Contains season 3 (eps 1-18 inclusive) spoilers.

“That plan is stupid”, Oswald protested. “I absolutely do _not_ agree at all.”

 

Edward rolled his eyes and gripped the bars of his cage, staring through them with intensity. Os was being difficult again. “It’s better than yours,” he hissed. “it will actually work.”

 

“At least in _my_ plan I don’t get punched in the face!”

 

“If you’d bothered to listen to the plan you’d understand that you do get to hit me back.” Ed explained. He’d been over it half a dozen times, but his companion was intent on disagreeing. “I thought you’d like that.”

 

Oswald scoffed and crossed his arms angrily. “What would you know about what I’d like?”

 

“Stop behaving like a child. We’ve only got one shot at this, and I will not let you sabotage my chance at escape.”

 

Knowing when to admit defeat, Os sighed and nodded reluctantly. He’d never say it out loud, but Edward’s escape plan _was_ far superior to his own, but it also involved a lot more risk. Since waking up, the pair had done nothing but bicker in harsh whispers, discussing tactics of escape. The Riddler had _almost_ escaped Arkham, so he should know a thing or two about getting out of dark dingy prisons not fit for human beings, but Oswald was still sceptical. Truce or no truce, he did not trust his old friend. Once they were out, there would be nothing between them. Nothing to stop Ed from caving his skull in, though nothing to stop Os from beating him to it either. 

 

“They’ll be coming by with breakfast soon, that will be the best time.”

 

Ed agreed wordlessly and shook his arms, loosening them up. He was still sore from having been contorted through their cages the previous night in a frivolous effort to keep them both warm. 

**‘Yes, “keep warm”, you keep telling yourself that.'** a dark voice inside him snarled. Ed pushed it from his mind and concentrated on the task at hand. Once he was out, he could return to his hideout and plot his destruction of The Court from afar. Kathryn had told him they would keep him until he was of use, but Edward had no intention of waiting. He had seen enough.

“Someone’s coming”

 

Os peered up, his green eyes forcing their gaze through the darkness to see a familiar figure making its way towards them with that morning’s pittance. He could never be sure if it was the same person who visited them three times a day, but it was always a slight man in a black mask. Oswald couldn’t help but think to himself that not only were The Court cheapskates, but they also lacked a certain sense of style that he felt should be befitting of a secret organisation. No matter, they wouldn’t be secret for much longer.

 

“Bread _again_!?” Edward yelled, right on cue, as the masked man placed their plates under the cages. “What is this, a bakery?”

 

Oswald suppressed a chuckle, he had to focus. “Shut up, _Riddler,_ ” he sneered. “it’s better than the gruel at Arkham.”

 

Ed’s eyes widened at the snark attached to his name. “Oh yeah, I forgot, birds like bread, don’t they, _Penguin?”_

 

“You two keep it down.” the masked figure instructed, turning to leave.

 

“Come here and say that!” Oswald yelled at his cellmate, throwing his arms in the air, as if challenging him to walk through the bars. “Not so tough without your hideous sparkly suit, _are you_?”

 

“ _You’re_ acting mighty tough for someone who can’t even walk straight. I’m such mollycoddle with my stupid waddle, _what am I_?” Ed sneered shaking the bars of his cage, smiling widely down at the man before him.

 

“You’ll be dead in a minute if you don’t cut it out with the insults.” 

 

“What are you going to do, _Pengie,_ blow me up with a rocket launcher? Push me off a building? You’re no match for me, nobody is!”

 

Oswald straightened up, the temptation to scrap the plan completely and smash Edward’s face in instead was steadily rising.“At least I’m not stupid enough to fall in love with someone who was obviously sent as a trap! ‘Oh look at me, I’m Edward Nygma, I tell riddles and I’m so clever!’ _well apparently not_!” That was not part of the plan, and Oswald regretted his words immediately. 

 

Ed’s face dropped and his eyes darkened as he frowned down at his former friend. “Don’t you dare! You know nothing, you-“ he was losing focus at the worst time. He’d deal with Oswald’s comments later. “You have haunted me for too long, you worm.”

 

“I haven’t even _begun_ to haunt you, you _hack_!”

 

“Hey, I told you to keep it down!”

 

“Make me.” Edward’s gaze snapped up to meet the eyes of the dark figure outside the cage. Without warning, he reached forward and grabbed Oswald by the collar, his other hand making contact with his right eye.

 

Os was caught off guard as Ed’s fist came hurtling towards him. Closing his eyes and bracing for contact, he was not prepared for the force behind the punch. If he hadn’t been held off the ground by his assailant, he no doubt would have toppled over.

 

“Hey!” the figure yelled, hurriedly searched for his keys.

 

Edward didn’t relent, he struck Oswald again, this time on the chin. 

 

“Ugh, not so hard!” Os whispered urgently. 

 

The temptation to ignore the order was astronomical, but Ed eased up as he struck his former friend a third time, this punch landed on the side of his nose. “I’m going to put my hand around your neck, but don’t worry, it wont be too tight.”

 

Penguin looked up in horror. That wasn’t part of the plan, and Edward had a bad record when it came to accidental strangulation. Before he had time to protest, and noticing that one of their captors was on his way in to Edward’s cage anyway, Os felt a large hand at the nape of his neck, long fingers wrapping around it. He choked back a cry as he felt the pressure increase, his airway constricting faster than he would have liked. “Ed-“ he gasped desperately. 

 

But as quickly as it had started, it had finished. Oswald’s body dropped to the floor in a heap, he touched his neck tenderly, gasping for air. 

 

The masked figure had grabbed Edward’s arms, pulling them behind him, but he had underestimated The Riddler’s strength. As he let go of Os, he slipped a hand into his jumpsuit pocket and pulled out the plate his companion had stashed previously. Stashed and then sharpened on their bars. 

It did not take much pressure at all, as Ed swung his arm back, slicing the neck of his captor. Blood spurted from his jugular spraying both prisoners in a crimson waterfall.

Not bothering to check the status of the bleeding man, Edward grabbed the keys and unlocked his adjoining cage, grasping Oswald by the arm and pulling him along.

 

“Let’s go.”

 

Edward had a good idea of where he was going. He had made sure to pay attention when he’d first arrived with Kathryn, and had been observing where their meal delivery boy had been coming and going from. Now they just had to hope that they could get out undetected. Ed couldn’t help but think that his escape would be that much easier without Oswald. Not only did the man have a bad leg, but thanks to their plan, his face was now swollen, and his nose bleeding. The guilt was only momentary as he remembered what the bird had said about Isabella. He’d deal with that later.

 

They wound their way through multiple dark corridors, each looking as grim as the last. Oswald was not good. His right leg ached more than ever, and now thanks to Ed, so did his face and neck. But he followed obediently, doing his best to keep up with The Riddler’s long strides. He seemed to have an idea of where they needed to go.

 

“A door!” Edward exclaimed in an excited whisper. They had finally discovered some light, dim though it was, shining through a small door window. Ed let go of Oswald’s arm, and pulled out the masked man’s keys, trying each on the door. At last, one worked. The door opened up to stone steps, and at the top of those steps…

 

“We’re free!” Oswald smiled in relief as they reached the top of the stairs and looked out upon one of Gotham’s many grungy alleyways. 

 

Ed looked around as though he’d lost something. “That’s it?”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“For a powerful, secret organisation they certainly cut a lot of corners. No dogs, no guards, no booby traps?” The Riddler frowned in disappointment. “Just a door?”

 

“Well, I’m sorry the escape wasn’t quite as dashing as you’d imagined,” Oswald snarked. “maybe you could go back in and ask Kathryn for a bit more of a challenge?”

 

"What the?" a third voice exclaimed from the darkness.

 

Oswald and Ed spun around to see a man in black, complete with a black mask and a gun standing by the door, staring at them in bewilderment. Without thinking twice, Oswald charged, tackling him around the stomach. The man was clearly caught off guard as he dropped his gun, lost in the darkness, and his body topped over underneath Penguin's slight frame.

 

Ed searched the alley desperately for a weapon. "Oswald, move!" he yelled, as he picked up what appeared to be a crowbar and ran towards the pair.

 

Using the last of his remaining strength, Os shoved his assailant as hard as he could, forcing him to stumble backwards, straight into The Riddler's waiting, and swinging arm. "Heads up!" Ed smiled before smashing the metal rod square into the skull of the mystery man, showering Oswald in yet even more blood. 

 

Oswald clambered to his feet and yelled into the emptiness. "Is that all you've got? That's it?" His voice echoed throughout the dim alleyway, but the darkness offered no response. 

 

“Come on, we need to get moving.” Ed smiled in bemusement. 

 

Penguin frowned and stayed put. “Isn’t this where we go our separate ways?”

 

“Oswald, you are in no shape to be left alone. Come back to my place and-“

 

“ _Your_ place?” Os laughed. “I think not. What happened to the truce? We’ve escaped, and that’s it. There’s nothing more for us.”

 

Ed crossed his arms, frustrated. “The least I can do is tidy your face up, you look ridiculous not _only_ because you're covered in blood, but look at that jumpsuit. I’ve got some of your clothes stashed away.”

 

“Why do you have my clothes?”

 

“This is not a good time or place for chit chat,” Edward hissed. “It’s not far, let’s go.”

 

Against his better judgement, Oswald followed his former friend, the man who had shot him, the man who may or may not have tried to strangle him to death minutes ago, down the dark alley, not knowing where he would end up.

 

** *** **

 

 

“Nice place you’ve got here,” Oswald observed, eyes sweeping over the hundreds of objects scattered around Edward’s residence, items no doubt he had stolen as part of his new career. “It’s got a very ‘super villain’ vibe to it.”

 

A warm look of satisfaction swept across Ed’s face as he directed his companion towards a chair, before leaving to look for his first aid supplies. “I do what I can.”

 

“I noticed that you stayed at my father’s house for a while after…”

 

Edward bit his lip, avoiding Oswald’s gaze. He sat down and pulled an alcohol wipe from his kit, dabbing it lightly on the other man’s face. “Yes, for a little while.”

He had been forced to leave the mansion at short notice after announcing himself to Gotham, and more importantly, the GCPD, but Ed knew he wouldn’t have stayed much longer anyway. There were too many reminders of the old times he had shared with Os, too many memories were stored away in that house, memories that, try as he might, he could not escape or block out. He had managed to get rid of the pills, he’d stopped the hallucinations, but sometimes he was still visited by _the voice._

“It wasn’t the same without you there.”

 

Os rolled his eyes in irritation. “Well, you could have avoided that, _couldn’t_ you?” he hissed as Ed’s hand swiped over the cut on his chin, the alcohol seeping into his skin. Edward had cleaned himself off as soon as they'd arrived at his secret compound, his dark features looking as sharp as Oswald remembered. He, on the other hand, was still a complete mess, with a busted face to match his bloody complexion.

 

“What did you mean about Isabella being a trap?”

 

“Edward, is now really the time?”

 

Ed stopped his cleaning of Oswald’s wounded face and rested his hands in his lap. “Is it something you said out of anger? Or is it something you truly believe? Either way, I want to know.”

 

Sighing, Oswald ran his hands through his hair. He _had_ said it out of anger, but at the same time, he couldn’t understand how Edward was still in denial about the situation. “Do you promise not to hit me again if you don’t like what you hear?”

 

“I promise to try.”

 

“Don’t forget our truce.” Os warned, waiting for a nod of acknowledgement before continuing. “Ed, Isabella was… not real. I mean, she was, but not in the way that you think. I’m not saying you did not love her, I believe you _believed_ you did, but she was quite obviously not real in the same way that you and I are.”

 

“How do you mean?” Ed mumbled.

 

“Come on, you’re smarter than this! You went to a store, a store you don’t frequent often, and you just _happen_ to run into an exact physical replica of your ex-girlfriend, a woman you loved and murdered? Oh, she also _happens_ to be into _riddles,_ a pastime you’ve been teased about your entire life. She _happens_ to instantly fall for you, she _happens_ to hang on to you for _hours_ , and after hearing about your time at Arkham, she’s a-ok with it!” Oswald explained as quickly as he could, well aware that The Riddler was in prime position to shut him up without notice. “This all coincides quite conveniently with my becoming mayor, and then after a few days, she tells you she’s going to a library conference. A _library conference,_ Ed! There’s no such thing, I looked it up! Why would a librarian need to go to a _conference_? She was sent to deceive you, I’m sure of it.”

 

Edward stared blankly. He was filled with a mixture of white hot rage and utter confusion. How dare Oswald speak that way about the woman he loved! However, he did make some astute observations. Ed swallowed heavily, trying to keep his voice steady. “And did you decide this before, or after I… shot you?”

 

“Unfortunately after. At the time I was just angry, I was jealous and not thinking straight. While recovering I had a lot of time to sit and think about it all.”

 

“What possible motive could there be? Why try and trick _me_? I wasn’t mayor, I was just your chief of staff, a nobody in comparison.” 

 

“You’ve never been a _nobody_ , Ed.” Oswald sighed. “I didn’t put it together until the other day when you told me about your meeting with Kathryn and I realised it was the same woman I met all those months ago. She said she and her group had had their eye on me.”

 

“You think they used me to get to you?” Edward asked.

 

“I think it’s possible. It seems like a very elaborate, and unnecessarily complicated plot, but I don’t see any other explanation for what happened. I’m sorry, Ed, I’m sorry for what happened. But Isabella… she wasn’t what you think.”

 

Standing up, Edward averted his gaze and went searching for a large trunk he had brought from the mansion. Oswald’s theory sped through his mind at a million miles a minute. As much as he’d tried to avoid thinking about such possibilities, Ed would be lying to himself if he said the thought that there was more to Isabella hadn’t crossed his mind. Now hearing it from another person made those thoughts all the more real. Opening the trunk, he pulled out what he needed and returned to his old friend.

“You’ve lost a bit of weight, but I imagine you’ll feel better wearing these than that ratty old thing.”

 

Os looked down on the offering and smiled, taking the clothes from Edward. “Why did you keep them?”

 

Ed shrugged, “I had a feeling they would come in handy.”

 

Pulling down the top of his jumpsuit, Oswald decided now was a good a time as any to tempt fate and ask something that had been on his mind. “What did you mean, back in the cage during our fight, about me ‘haunting’ you?” he asked. 

 

“Nothing, just something I said in the heat of the moment.”

 

It was a lie, and Os knew it immediately. The tell-tale signs of an Edward Nygma deception were all there. The gaze-aversion, the fidgeting hands, tiny beads of sweat on the forehead. 

He thread his arms through the crips purple shirt Ed had given him, feeling more like himself than he had in days. “The truth.” he insisted, buttoning his shirt purposefully. 

 

Edward cursed himself, he should have known better than to try and fool Oswald. Much to his chagrin, the man knew him better than anyone. He paced the limited floor space in front of him nervously, chewing on his fingernails. “I need some wine.” 

 

Oswald chuckled, kicking off his Court-issued boots and wriggling out of the remaining half of the jumpsuit. He would not need his full get-up right away, but it was comforting to know he could wear his own clothes again. 

 

After selecting a bottle of 2005 shiraz he had stollen from goodness knows where, Ed turned back towards his former friend, only to find him half naked, inspecting the blood splatter remaining on his hands. 

 

“Take a picture, Ed.” Oswald sneered, shaking out his pants to put them on.

 

Directing his gaze towards anything else in the vicinity, Ed grabbed two glasses, and made sure only to get back to Os’s side of the room _after_ he had put pants on. 

 

Oswald sipped on the wine handed to him, and struggled to swallow. “Ugh, your taste in wine has gone the same way as your taste in clothes.” he coughed, smelling the liquid suspiciously.

 

Edward couldn’t help but chuckle. “Don’t complain, it was free. Sort of.”

 

Despite the poor vintage, the pair drank their wine in silence. And then another, and then another. The silence was comforting, as the words they'd exchanged so far since their reunion had often been fiery and caused friction. The Riddler wondered how long he could keep it up, not long surely. 

 

“So, are you going to answer my question?” Oswald slurred. “Or do I need to beat it out of you? You _did_ say I could hit you, remember?”

 

“I remember. Maybe tomorrow.” Ed smiled. “As for your question, that’s complicated.”

 

“Excuse me, _Mister_ Nygma,” Os remarked, sloshing his wine. “ _I_ told you that I thought your girlfriend, the one you attempted to _kill me_ over, was a super spy freaky clone thing, and now _you_ can’t even tell me what you meant by your remark that I’d been ‘haunting’ you?”

 

Edward was starting to feel drowsy. Three glasses in and the wine was making his mind buzz; it was obviously having an effect on his companion too. He supposed that now was a good a time as any to come clean, worst case he could always explain it away with the alcohol if need be. 

 

“After you died, after I _thought_ you’d died, I had some trouble letting go. It was fine at first because I was angry and hurting, but then after a while I…” Gripping his glass firmly Ed stared down into what remained of his drink. The red hue was sparkling up at him, a sight he’d seen only too often all those months ago as he’d sat in his office alone. “I started to miss you. I didn’t know how to deal with it, it’s not as though I could _talk_ to anybody. The only people who knew what I had done were Barbara, Tabitha, and Butch, and I wasn’t about to go running to them for comfort. So I turned to something else, something inside of me.”

 

“The voices.”

 

Ed nodded. “But that wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to have my _other_ self to talk to, I wanted to talk to _you._ ”

 

Oswald sat in quiet bewilderment. He had hoped at best that Ed _might_ have felt bad about what had happened between them, but he hadn’t imagined that there may have been more going on with his old friend. That he might have actually _missed_ him.

 

“I ended up taking something, these pills, at the start they were to help me stay focused while I carried on your mayoral duties, but I quickly discovered their _other_ uses too. They allowed me to see you. And talk to you.”

 

“Did it help?”

 

“No,” Ed answered solemnly. “It was nice to see you sometimes, but most of the time it was just upsetting. You were very argumentative sometimes. Other times, it was just confusing, it became too much.”

 

“Ah, so even in your hallucinations I’m a pain in the ass?”

 

“True to form. But then my mind started playing tricks on me, tricks I hadn’t anticipated, so I knew the visions had to stop.”

 

Oswald frowned and moved his chair closer to Ed’s, “What kinds of tricks?”

 

Edward gulped down the last of his wine and rubbed his temples. “It’s a bit embarrassing, Oswald, maybe another time.”

 

“Oh no you don’t, out with it.”

 

“At times you visited me when I thought the hallucination was already over. Like I would be getting ready for bed, and then suddenly you’d be in my bedroom. Or I’d go to have a shower, but you’d already be standing there.” Ed explained. “It was nothing sexual,” he added hurriedly. “but this one time you sang me a song.”

 

Os’s eyes widened and he sipped his wine excitedly. “A song? I’m not much of a singer.”

 

“We’d been having a disagreement, and then suddenly you were wearing these clothes, fancy clothes, and singing this song, and it was very…” Ed struggled to find the right word to complete his memory. What had it been? **“It was amazing”** the voice interrupted. **“The highlight of our week, and our night, when we replayed over and over, and the following night…”** Ed shook his head in irritation, shutting the voice up.

 

“Very theatrical? Very sophisticated? Very charming?” Os smiled, clearly enjoying himself. “Very ha-“

 

“Seductive.” Edward interrupted quickly. “Very seductive.”

 

Oswald wasn't even attempting to hide his glee at this news. He leant back in his chair, swirling his remaining wine thoughtfully. " _Seductive?_ Isn't that interesting." he smiled, eyes wild and excited. 

 

"Now would be a _very_ bad time to make fun of me, Oswald." Edward warned sternly. 

 

Penguin put his glass down and threw his hands up in mock-surrender. "I wouldn't dream of it. Speaking of which, would you mind if I stayed here tonight? I can make arrangements to disappear in the morning."

 

"What happened to not trusting me?"

 

"If you'd rather I go I'll-"

 

"No," Ed interrupted. "No it's fine. I'm not really set up for visitors, that's all."

 

"I'll happily sleep in this chair," Oswald replied, curling up and hugging his knees. "It sure beats the cage."

 

"Don't be stupid, the bed is a king and more than big enough for two people without invading each other's space."

 

"How on earth did you steal a  _bed?_ " Os asked in amazement.

 

Edward grinned proudly. "Can't go giving away trade secrets." he winked and walked towards his makeshift bedroom. He picked up a pillow and threw it to the end of the bed. "There, we can sleep head to toe."

 

Oswald looked at the bed with unease. This was far too close for comfort and he could not help but wonder what Edward was thinking. Maybe it was the wine impairing his judgement, Os certainly felt like it was impairing his. As he'd followed Ed, his eyes had lingered far too long at his hips, his slim body and how the ugly jumpsuit clinged to his waist and his thighs as he walked. It brought him back to happier days when he'd admired his chief of staff from across the office, admiring not only his intelligence and dedication to his work, but his beautiful form, his long limbs and sharp cheek bones, his dark eyes and wicked smile. Those images had never left the back of Oswald's mind, and now they were being pushed back to the forefront. 

 

"If you're sure," he shrugged, lifting the covers. "I don't want to impose any more than I already have."

 

"What's one more imposition?" Ed smiled as he pulled off his jumpsuit, leaving him in only his undershirt and boxers. "Just make yourself scarce in the morning."

 

"Of course, it'll only take one call." Oswald stood awkwardly, wondering if he should remove his clothes, or if that would be crossing some sort of line. He waited until Edward had climbed into bed and had his back to him, before quickly shedding his shirt and pants, and climbing in at the other end. 

 

"Try not to kick me in the head, I know it'll be tempting." The Riddler mumbled drowsily. 

 

Oswald smiled. "I'll try my best."

 

 

** *** **

 

 

Waking early the following morning Oswald felt something was wrong. He tried to move his legs, but they were trapped, as though he'd been tied up. Panicking, he started frantically looking around for a way to free himself. His arms were loose, that was a start. Pulling back the covers, it quickly became apparent what the problem was. Edward, still sound asleep, had his arms wrapped tightly around Oswald's shins, holding them close to his chest. 

"Lucky for him my feet don't smell." Os muttered to himself, trying to carefully slip from his bedfellow's grasp without waking him.

 

Ed stirred and his eyes opened wearily. "Oswald?"

 

"Sorry for waking you, I just wanted to, um..." he pointed down at his legs.

 

Edward frowned in confusion and looked to where Os was gesturing. "Oh dear," he exclaimed, quickly relinquishing his grasp. "I'm sorry. I'm quite an active sleeper, I'm told." He sat up and reached for his glasses, watching as his old friend stood up on shaking legs. 

 

"Do you have a phone I can borrow? You know, to make arrangements?"

 

After passing him a spare phone he had laying around, Ed collapsed back into the bed, wrapping the covers around him. After spending several nights on the floor of a cage, this was heaven. He watched Os poke at the buttons urgently. 

 

"Come on, Ivy, come on." Penguin whispered. He didn't know who else to call. He hadn't thought about setting up the others for easy contact, as he'd figured Ivy would always be on hand. He didn't even know where Brigitte and Fries were anymore. 

 

"No answer?"

 

"Nothing. Sorry, I'll-"

 

"Stay." Ed interrupted. "Try again in an hour or so."

 

Os nodded as he handed the phone back to Edward. He propped himself on the edge of the bed, leaning over to face his companion. They sat in silence, awkwardly avoiding each other's eyes as Ed tapped his fingers on the bed covers, and Oswald chewed on his lip.

 

"Why are we doing this?" Oswald asked, finally breaking the deafening pause. "Why can't we be like _normal_ people who hate each other?"

 

"I don't hate you."

 

"I don't hate you either." Oswald smiled sadly. "I hate a lot of things, a lot of people, even myself sometimes. But never you, Ed. I could never hate you."

 

Edward perched himself up so he was leaning against the bedhead. "Come here."

 

Oswald swung his body around, just in time to be pulled in by Edward's arms into an embrace. He froze, unsure what to do, where to put his own arms, what to say. The Riddler's hug tightened as their chests were forced together, and Ed's chin rested gently on Os's shoulder. Carefully, Oswald lifted his arms, and gently wrapped them around Ed's waist, lightly placing his hands on the small of his back. It felt right. It felt like old times, happier times. For a moment, it was like the last several months had been a horrible dream, and they were back in the mansion by the fireplace, happy. But there was doubt, lingering in the background of Oswald's happiness. 'This is the man who shot you, pushed you into the harbour and left you for dead. He dug up your beloved father, he ruined you. He can't be trusted.' Os breathed in deeply, he'd worry about those thoughts later.

 

"Oswald," Edward broke their hug and rested his hands on his friend's shoulders, looking him directly in the eyes. "I forgive you."

 

For a moment, Oswald forgot how to breathe. He suddenly forgot every single word he'd ever known and could only bring himself to smile the faintest of smiles. Surely he must have heard wrong.

 

The Riddler grinned back at him, and pulled his body in once more. Ed closed his eyes and breathed his friend in. Os needed a shower, they both did, but in that moment, it didn't matter. He sensed from Oswald's tense posture that he was unsure and perhaps confused, but Edward could understand why. He gently stroked his back with one hand, and placed the other at the back of Oswald's head, threading his fingers through his hair. 

 

"We'll be ok."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is a slow burn but I hope it'll be worth it.
> 
> Thank you for the kind comments on the last chapter. 
> 
> I don't have a proof-reader, so sorry for any mistakes :)
> 
> Updates should be Wednesday and Saturday.
> 
> 29.5.17- minor corrections and additions


	3. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward and Oswald have a talk about trust, and put theirs to the test.
> 
> (Has nothing to do with episodes currently airing but contains slight season 3 spoilers)

Oswald felt sick. The familiarity with which Ed was holding him, stroking his hair, it was everything he’d ever wanted once upon a time. He could feel warm breath on his neck and a comforting hand gently rubbing his back. The sensation _should_ have been relaxing, but only made Os feel threatened, as though at any moment he would find a blade working its way through his heart, bleeding him dry in a matter of seconds; the gentle hands replaced by a tightness in his throat, as long fingers worked their way to crush his windpipe. No matter what they had agreed, truce or no truce, Edward was a threat, and as far as Os was concerned, he always would be. 

 

Resisting the urge to hug Ed back for a second time, Oswald stuffed his hands into the bed spread and tried to distract himself. As much as he wanted to trust his old friend, he knew that it was not that simple. While once he had been fueled by emotion and impulse, being born again had given Penguin a new sense of purpose. Being emotional had only caused him pain. It had been Edward who had told him that love was a weakness, and as much as Oswald hadn’t wanted to believe him, it had proven true, again and again. He would not make that mistake another time. 

 

Edward loosened his grip and looked down upon his companion. Os looked troubled. 

 

“Is everything ok, Oswald?” 

 

The small man smiled weakly. “I’d rather you did not do that again.” He stood up and limped to the table bearing his clothes, keeping his back to the bed. 

 

“I’m sorry. I just thought-“ 

 

“I appreciate that you say that you forgive me,” Oswald interrupted, buttoning his pants. “but I’m not sure I believe you.” He turned to face his former friend. “I think it’s a half truth, and to be honest that scares me. Not _much_ scares me, but when the man who shot me and left me for dead tries to deceive me, it gives me cause for concern.” 

 

**“He’s smarter than you give him credit for,”** the voice snarled mockingly. **“you should know better, you’re getting sloppy!”** Edward scrunched his eyes shut and tried to focus. He didn’t need _this_ now. “Oswald, I forgive you. Mostly.” 

 

Oswald chuckled as he finished tying his shoes. “Well, forgiveness doesn’t really work that way, _does it_ Ed?” 

 

“I mean, I was thinking about what you said last night, about Isabella not being real. I think there’s a chance you might be right.” 

 

“Of course I’m right!” Oswald threw his hands up and collapsed on the end of the bed. “That’s not up for discussion!” 

 

“I need proof.” Ed replied calmly. “I think then, then I could truly forgive you. One hundred percent.” 

 

Oswald stared at him with a look of confusion and disbelief. “Conditional forgiveness? Are you serious?” 

 

“You have to understand, it’s complic-“ 

 

“Oh no, you do _not_ get to tell me it’s complicated. It’s not. We have a _truce_. We are _done_.” Penguin snarled, leaning to the bedside table to pick up Edward’s phone, and angrily redialed Ivy’s phone number. He waited, silently praying for her to pick up. Nothing. “Dammit.” he hissed, throwing the phone across the bed. 

 

“I could never forget that you killed the woman I loved, but think I really could forgive you, if you’re right about her not being…” Ed trailed off. It wasn’t something he liked to think about, but it had crossed his mind a few times even before Oswald had mentioned it. “if you’re right about her not being real.” 

 

Oswald sighed heavily. “What does it matter? We’ve agreed to just ignore each other for the rest of our lives anyway. I don’t _need_ your forgiveness.” 

 

Edward frowned. In the time he had known Oswald he had seen how changeable he could be. He’d seen Os go from being perfectly calm, to slicing someone’s neck open. From laughing one minute, to shooting a thug in the face the next. But he had never seen him look so conflicted. While moments ago they had been pressed together in embrace, now his companion could not get far enough away from him. “It’s hard for me too.” 

 

“What is?” 

 

“This.” Ed looked down at the bed, staring intently at the cushion in his lap. “I’m trying, Oswald. I’m forcing myself to try and fix this.” 

 

“Why?” Os asked. “We gave ourselves an out. The truce was _your_ idea. That’s the end of us.” 

 

“What if I don’t want it to be?” The Riddler looked up into his old friend’s pale eyes. He saw his own sadness reflected back at him. “If you’re wrong and you really did kill the woman of my dreams out of jealousy, costing me my one chance at happiness, then that is truly unforgivable. That’s what the truce is for, so we don’t waste our remaining time on this earth trying to fulfil our revenge fantasies. If, however, you are right, then… perhaps we can make this better?” 

 

“Ed, I-“ 

 

“You should _want_ this, Oswald! You should hunger for the truth almost as much as I do. Don’t you think we owe it to ourselves, to _us_ , to know for sure?” 

 

For someone so intelligent, Oswald was dumfounded at Ed’s naivety. “And what makes you think I _want_ anything other than to never see you again?” He stood up off the bed, arms crossed and fuming. “Forget what I did to you, what about what _you_ did to _me_? You dug up my deceased father and used him against me. You tortured me mentally _and_ physically. You shot me, you pushed me into the harbour, you destroyed my empire that I built from the ground up. I told you I loved you and…” Os stopped for fear that he may become too emotional if he continued. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes, and the last thing he needed in that moment was to show weakness. He took a deep breath and stared down at the man before him. “Even if we find proof that I am right about Isabella, even if you forgive me, how could I _ever_ forgive you?” 

 

The silence hung between them, Ed struggling to desperately come up with something to say to ease the tension. He hadn’t considered Oswald’s forgiveness. **“You fool, you thought that he’d just come running back to you! You didn't think for a second that he might not want you anymore!”** Ed twitched in an attempt to shake the voice. It was right, he was right, and the thought sickened him. The idea that he might be able to forgive Os had been a difficult one to reconcile, but once he reached what he thought was a reasonable compromise, with himself, Edward had felt optimistic. Nothing would bring Isabella back, but if he could know for sure that he couldn’t have had his happily ever after, no matter what Oswald had done, everything would be ok. He could live with that; he could have his friend back. The idea that maybe he wouldn’t be wanted hadn’t crossed his mind, but now that it had, it was all he could think about. 

 

Oswald jumped when the phone rang, its high pitched ring piercing the painful pause that had been so deafening. He limped to the bed and snatched it from Ed’s hands. 

 

“Yes? Ivy! I’ve been trying to call you, whe- yes… yes… of course I’m ok. Do you _think_ The Court gave me a phone to call my friends? N-no of course they didn’t. I’m safe, I’m with someone.” he paced impatiently, trying his best to not lose his temper at the poor girl. He knew she meant well, but he hadn’t exactly _planned_ to be in his 30s and playing big brother to a plant freak. As Ivy continued to babble on about how she was so glad he was safe, Os snuck a glance back at the bed. Edward looked crushed. He sat with his hands folded in his lap, staring off into the distance. He looked embarrassed, almost ashamed. It was the most vulnerable Ed had ever looked in front of him, and it was unnerving. Knowing what he was capable of, Os felt uneasy seeing his old friend look so human right before his eyes. 

 

“Yes Ivy, I’m still here,” he stammered, losing his train of thought. “Ivy I’m not coming back straight away,” as the words left his mouth he felt almost instant regret. This would come back to haunt him, he was sure of it. “I’ve got some unfinished business. I’ll contact you when I’m done.” he hung up before she had time to protest, and handed the phone back to Edward. 

 

“Os-“ 

 

“We’ll find out the truth. Together. But that’s it, I cannot trust you, so we cannot be friends. Do you still want my help?” 

 

*******

 

“You can’t think of anything else?” Ed whined, his eyes sweeping over their list once more. He and Oswald had each written down everything they knew about The Court, every last whisper they’d overheard, every minute detail that came to mind, and it still wasn’t enough. 

 

Os groaned, his head rested in his hands. “I _cannot_ think about this right now, it’s driving me crazy.” he grumbled. “We’ve been at it for hours and we’ve got almost nowhere.” Their list was comprehensive but the information gathered was of no use without a plan to back it up. The pair had discussed at length what to do, and kept returning to the same point. Even if that woman, Kathryn, was standing right in front of them, they still wouldn’t know what to do with her. While Oswald had read up on Ed’s exploits while he had been indisposed, he was still surprised at some of the ideas that floated off The Riddler’s tongue. Their styles were certainly different. 

 

“Are you hungry?” Ed stood up and, not waiting for a response, headed to his makeshift kitchen. “I don’t have much, but it will definitely be more appetising than what The Court gave us.” 

 

Mumbling a noncommittal reply, Oswald shoved his hands in his pants pockets, his fingers landing on the small vial that rested on his right side. He’d forgotten about it until now. “Edward, if someone showed you a liquid, would you be able to identify what it is without destroying it?” he asked excitedly.

 

The Riddler peered around the corner towards his old friend. “What _kind_ of liquid?” 

 

“I don’t know,” Oswald walked towards him, his eyes darting over the contents of the vial. “it’s just something I picked up. I’ve seen its effects in action, but I’m not sure what it is or how it works.” 

 

Ed’s face lit up. “What does it do?” 

 

“It seems to affect people differently. I’ve seen it used to draw the truth from someone, I’ve also seen it used to control someone’s actions. It may do other things as well, I’m not sure.” Oswald had felt bad about taking Ivy’s perfume without her permission, but he would have been a fool to not take something that powerful when he knew he would be up against the likes of The Court and Edward Nygma. Thankfully he hadn’t needed it while imprisoned, though it had been tempting. 

 

“Where did you even _get_ that, surely not from The Court?” Ed took the vial from Oswald and held it up to the light for closer inspection. 

 

“From a friend. She likes plants.” Os replied, as though that explained everything. 

 

“But _how_ have you still got it? Didn’t the minions of The Court take everything from you?” Ed frowned. 

 

“After I got changed they didn’t search me.” Oswald shrugged. “ _Amateurs_. I just hid it when I removed my clothes and snuck it into the pocket of the jumpsuit.” 

 

Edward looked at him in shock. “They let you get changed _by yourself_?” he snarled. “Those bastards.” 

 

Oswald smiled. Typical Ed, he must have put up a fight when they forced him to change. Soon he’d learn to pick his battles. Os watched carefully as Edward frowned at the perfume inquisitively, looking as though his mind was working at one hundred miles a minute. 

 

“Can I taste it?” 

 

“I’m not sure, I'm guessing it’s not poisonous, if that’s what you’re asking?” 

 

Ed carefully unscrewed the lid and carefully put a drop onto his tongue. Almost instantly, his face contorted into a look of disgust and he ran back to the kitchen. “Revolting.” he spat, gurgling water to get the foul taste from his mouth. 

 

“Ok,” Oswald laughed. “we’ll be sure not to feed it to anybody.” 

 

“Strange,” Edward mused, handing the liquid back to his companion. “it doesn’t seem to smell like anything.” 

 

“That can’t be right, I’ve seen people sniff it and then… things happen. She, my friend, put it on her neck and forced men to smell it. ” 

 

“Maybe it reacts with chemicals in the skin and without that reaction it’s useless.” Ed shrugged. “There’s only one way to find out.” 

 

“I am _not_ smelling your tongue.” 

 

Ed smirked deviously. “You’re no fun. Ok, put a drop on your hand and I’ll smell it. That quantity shouldn’t do too much damage.” 

 

“What are you basing that on?” Os chuckled. “For a scientist you’re not being very scientific.” 

 

“It seems like this is not a very scientific liquid. Come on, I’ll try it, and then you can try it. We can see what it does.” 

 

Alarm bells were ringing in Oswald’s mind, this was a bad, a terrible, an _awful_ idea. So of course he had to do it. No matter how hard he tried, trouble always came knocking, and he always let it in. Carefully unscrewing the vial, Os allowed a single drop of the perfume to land on his hand before presenting it to Edward. 

 

Ed inhaled deeply and instantly felt like he’d been hit by something wonderful. He felt lightheaded and free, as though he were floating and weightless. 

 

“How does it feel?” 

 

“Magical.” The Riddler responded dutifully. He answered without thinking, the word tumbling from his mouth without permission as though it was being forced out of him. 

 

“Edward, I want you to slap yourself in the face.” Oswald commanded. No sooner had the final vowel left his lips, had Ed’s hand collided at full force with his cheek, a red mark remaining behind.  Penguin stared, his eyes wide and full of awe. It had taken almost nothing, but it appeared as though Edward was at his command.  “Do it again.” he grinned as Ed repeated the action. Again, and again. “Ok stop. That’s almost better than doing it myself.” 

 

Ed stood still as a statue, staring down at Penguin as though waiting for further commands . He was aware of his surroundings, but not enough to know why he was hitting himself, why this little man would tell him what to do, and most importantly why he felt compelled to do it. As quickly as the calming sensation had swept over him, it vanished. His body tensed as he snapped back into his own consciousness. “Why does my face hurt?” 

 

Oswald smirked knowingly. “You don’t remember?” His smile widened as Ed shook his head. So not only did Ivy’s concoction allow one person to take command of another, but they would not remember their actions once the effects wore off. “ _Fascinating_.” 

 

Edward rubbed his cheek gently, wracking his brain to try and remember what had happened. He remembered feeling relaxed and then… Nothing. He frantically looked himself over for any other injuries he may have sustained while under Oswald’s spell. To his relief he found none. 

 

“Don’t worry, nothing permanent.” 

 

The reassurance was nice, but Edward was suspicious. Whatever Oswald’s friend had made had potentially unlimited possibilities. They’d need to experiment some more. 

 

“Oh by the way, Ed,” Os said as he popped the remaining perfume back in his pocket. “remember how I owe you a punch to the face?” 

 

Ed nodded nervously. 

 

“Don’t worry about it, we’re even.” 

 

 

*** 

 

 

They sat on the bed in silence, eating ramen noodles for the second time that day. Ed had been right, it wasn’t much, but compared to The Court’s prison provisions, it was luxury. 

 

“You know, Oswald, that potion of yours is the key to solving our problem.” Edward mumbled as he slurped his dinner. “Once we have Kathryn, we just force her to get a nose full and surely she’ll tell us everything we need to know.” 

 

Os had, of course, had the same thought. It would be foolish not to take advantage of this incredible tool in their arsenal, but he was not as confident as his counterpart. “I’ve never seen it used on a woman,” he thought out loud. “and I’ve only seen it force somebody to spill the truth _once_. That’s a big risk to take.” 

 

“So we’ll test it again,” Ed shrugged. “I should get to try it on you next, then we can just grab some kids from the Narrows and have a go on them until we’ve got it worked out.” 

 

“ _Jesus_ , Ed.” Oswald scowled. As much as he did not care for children, conducting unethical experiments on the innocent was a bit of a sore spot for him.

 

The Riddler smirked as he peered over his chopsticks. “So that’s where _The Penguin_ draws the line, is it? Chemical testing on kids?” 

 

“We’ll do what we need to do.” 

 

“Then hurry up, it’s my turn.” Ed clapped his hands and looked at his old friend in excitement. Thoughts of what he would make him do raced through his head. The humiliating, the cruel, the sadistic. No, he had to stop thinking like that.

 

“You do understand why I might not be terribly excited about this idea.” Oswald placed his remaining noodles on the bedside table and chewed his lip nervously. Knowing what Ed was capable of gave him great cause for concern. What if he was forced to spill his secrets, what if he was forced to kill himself? There was no telling what may become of him and Os was overly cautious about trusting people at the best of times, let alone placing his trust, however temporary, in the hands of a man who tried to kill him. 

 

“I don’t care.” Edward replied matter-of-factly. “It’s my turn.” 

 

“Fine. But let’s get it over with.” Oswald tossed the vial across the bed so it landed in his old friend’s lap. Ed was only effected by the perfume for a minute or so, surely Os could handle that.Closing his eyes, he breathed in deeply, wondering if it would be possible to fight the effects of the perfume. It was worth a try.

 

Ed cautiously opened the bottle and tipped some of the contents onto his wrist. They had tried with a tiny amount before, it only made sense to increase the dosage the second time around. “Ok, ready.” he said, presenting his arm to Oswald. 

 

Edward had been right, the perfume didn’t have much of a scent, but as soon as it hit Oswald’s nose he felt its effects. He felt light headed and dizzy as though he were waking up from a deep sleep. His entire body relaxed and his mind was a blank slate, ready to be told what to think. 

 

“How is it?”

 

“It’s ok,” Oswald replied, not realising he was speaking until the words had already left his lips. “not quite ‘magical’ as you put it.”

 

Ed smiled. So Oswald was aware of his surroundings, just as he had been, but not in control of his words. “Do you know who I am?”

 

“Don’t be stupid, Edward, of course I know who you are.”

 

“Do you trust me?”

 

Os replied without hesitation. “No.”

 

The Riddler was momentarily hurt by the curt response; it was his own fault for asking a question he didn’t really want a truthful answer to. “Can I trust you?”

 

“Yes.”

 

It was like talking to a robot. Insert a question, out spits an answer, emotionless and true. “Do you have plans to kill me?”

 

“No.”

 

**“Well that’s a relief,”** the voice snarled. **“but what will you do with him now? Now would be the perfect opportunity to-“** Ed smacked the side of his head. No, no he would NOT do what the Other Ed wanted. Not yet anyway. He paused, mulling over the millions of questions working their way through his mind. He had so many questions for Oswald, questions he definitely wanted an honest answer to. How had he survived the dock? Who had saved him? Why hadn't he sought medical attention? What was he planning on doing once the two of them parted ways? “Do you still love me?”

‘Stupid!’ Edward thought to himself. ‘Stupid, stupid man.’ another question he asked without thinking, realising too late that he did not really want to know the answer, no matter what it was.

 

“Yes.”

 

 ** "Oh isn't that interesting," **  Other Ed snarled deep inside of him.  **"after all that you did to him, he does not trust you, but he still loves you. How sweet. How convenient."** Edward was speechless, completely overwhelmed and caught off guard by the single syllable that hung between them. "Yes." he mumbled out loud. "Why?"

Oswald merely shrugged, his composure had remained stoic since smelling the perfume, his eyes fixated on Ed's, his face remaining unchanged at each question.

 

Edward, in contrast, started sweating. His hands were trembling, his pulse had quickened. Why did he ask such a stupid question? He now had information he did not need, let alone want. Stupid, stupid! He looked at his watch, it had been two minutes since they had started, surely the effects would be wearing off soon. "Oswald, remove your right shoe and throw it as far as you can across the room." Ed commanded. He watched the big black shoe fly over the bed, crashing into an old painting that had been collected on one of The Riddler's many adventures. Edward ran his fingers through his hair and gritted his teeth. What to do, what to do? "Why!?" he demanded, looking up into his companion's eyes.

 

"Why what?" Os frowned. He looked down. "Why am I only wearing one shoe?"

 

The perfume had stopped working. Edward silently cursed himself for wasting so much time. "Nothing," he mumbled. "your shoe is over there." he gestured towards the paintings resting against the far wall. He watched a very confused Oswald hobble to fetch it, his gait even more uneven than usual.  **"What are we going to do with this information? We can use it! We can have everything we ever wanted, we can take it from him and he wont even know!"** The voice was getting more insistent, more powerful, louder. It fed off each new piece of information about Oswald, soaking it up and gained more control of his mind with each morsel. He couldn't, he wouldn't let it take over. Not again. 

 

"So, how was our experiment?" Oswald asked, returning to the makeshift bedroom, two shoes upon his feet. "Discover anything new? Anything good."

 

"Yes and no." Ed sighed. "Nothing that can't wait until tomorrow."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for the lovely comments on the last chapter <3 I've never written these characters before so it's nice hearing that some of you think I'm doing an ok job at it :) also good to see people appreciate a slow burn, I think in this kind of narrative the characters deserve it and I want to do their relationship justice. I'm open to constructive criticism if you feel that way inclined. 
> 
> Obviously I took some liberty to change Ivy's perfume to suit my own purposes :)


	4. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward visits The Sirens and Oswald finds out something that should have been left in the past.

“Edward!” Barbara Kean exclaimed excitedly, extending her arms warmly as Ed slipped through the door of The Sirens.

 

It was three o’clock in the afternoon, so the club was empty, save for its proprietors and Butch Gilzean sitting at the bar. Reluctantly, Ed returned her embrace, his eyes peering over her shoulder to Tabitha, who had been glaring at him since he entered.

 

“Barbara,” he smiled politely. “ _others_.” he grumbled to Butch and Tabitha.

 

“Where have you been?” Butch asked accusingly, nursing his drink.

  

Ed scowled at the question. His rapport with Butch, of late, had been poor at best. He’d hoped they could put their differences aside for the greater good, but the thug was good at holding a grudge. The notion of coming to The Sirens to ask for help was belittling and Edward hated himself for it, but he had little choice, and they knew it.

 

“Well, The Court were none to happy with me.” he explained, taking a seat. “They locked me up for a few days for the trouble I caused on television, and now here I am.”

 

“They let you go?”

 

Ed frowned. “Of course they didn’t, I escaped.”

 

Tabitha snorted in disbelief. “How did you manage that? You’re not exactly subtle.” she eyed his green suit in disgust.

  

“That is immaterial.” Edward replied, not bothering to look at her. “They need to be destroyed. Word has it they have plans to destroy the city, that’s going to be bad for business. For all of us.”

  

“Word? Whose word?” Barbara asked. Unlike her partners, she had a fondness for the strange man, a fondness that meant she was more willing to entertain his idiosyncrasies. Like herself, she knew Ed had not been born into the life he now found himself, but had had a shot at normality that had been cruelly snatched from him. If nothing else, she saw herself in him.

 

“Whispers from the guards I overheard during my incarceration. I only met the woman in charge once but I have reason to believe she has been planning this for some time.” he paused, making sure to choose his next words closely. “She met with Oswald Cobblepot before his… untimely demise. She thought he had too much power and needed to go. These people, The Court, they do not like it when people take what they see as theirs. They will not discriminate, they will destroy everything in their path. That means you, me, the city. All of it.”

 

“You’re delusional.” Butch scoffed. “Barbara, these are the ravings of a lunatic, who cares what he says? He disappears for a week and then what, just strolls in with a crazy story and we’re supposed to believe him? Even if this Court is real they can’t take us on.”

  

“You fool,” Ed hissed, glaring at the sceptical faces before him. “The Court were prepared to take on me _and_  Oswald when we ran _everything_. Not only the underworld, we controlled the whole city, and they still planned to cut us out. You think they’ll be scared of some amateurs with a nightclub and a few hands for hire?”

  

“Penguin was never a real threat,” Tabitha laughed. “if he had been, it would have taken more to kill him than a freak with a pistol.”

 

Edward breathed in deeply to compose himself. “What I may lack in brawn I more than make up in brain, Ms Galavan. Nonetheless, as the man who was finally responsible for disposing of Penguin, and the only person who, to our knowledge, as met with and escaped from The Court, I think you can cut me some slack. I am sharing this information with you willingly.”

 

“Not out of the goodness of your heart.” Barbara smiled knowingly. “What is it you want?”

 

** *** **

 

“Barbara is trying my patience,” Edward grumbled, throwing his hat onto the couch and collapsing next to it. He had only been gone a few hours, but those hours had been agonisingly spent at The Sirens trying to get the tedious trio to cooperate with him. “there’s no reasoning with people like that. She has no idea how to run the gangs, or anything else for that matter.”

  

Oswald shrugged. “Shame you ‘killed’ the one guy who knew how to get stuff done.” he replied sarcastically, not looking up from his copy of the Gazette. “Did you tell them I’m alive?”

 

“Of course not,” Edward scoffed. “the timing needs to be perfect. There’s no need for them to know just yet.”

  

“And did they give you anything?”

 

Two days had passed since they had experimented with the mystery perfume, and Ed had not had the courage to tell Oswald what he had asked him, and consequently, what he knew. The guilt was consuming him, so Edward did his best to stay busy. The pair had decided it would not be a good idea for Oswald to go wandering around Gotham alone, and certainly not on errands with Ed, so Penguin had remained behind at the hideout during the days, while Edward kept up appearances in the underworld.

 

“They’ll give me some weaponry but no manpower.” Ed spat in irritation. “They’re not taking this seriously.”

  

Oswald folded the newspaper and joined his old friend on the couch. “You don’t exactly have a good relationship with Butch and Tabitha, do you?”

  

“Not since I tortured them that one time, no.”

 

“You told them that The Court are planning to destroy the city?”

  

Ed nodded.

 

“Not much we can do about that then,” Os sighed. “we’ll focus on our thing and let someone else handle Gotham’s demise. I’m sure Jim Gordon would _love_ the opportunity to be a hero again.” Oswald was starting to get irritated being locked away for so long. While staying at Ed’s was certainly a step up from being in the clutches of The Court, his only exposure to the outside world was through the papers and TV, and Ed himself, and the latter was not being very forthcoming. The previous couple of days he’d found Ed to be especially distant. He still hadn’t told him what had happened when Oswald had tried out Ivy’s concoction, not the full extent. Penguin wasn’t foolish enough to believe that he’d only been instructed to toss his footwear around. As much as Ed liked to believe otherwise, Os knew him better than anyone and could read the nervousness and deception across his face as easily as he could read a book.

  

“We still don’t have a _plan_!” Edward agonised, jumping to his feet, clearly frustrated. He walked to the kitchen, urgently looking for a distraction. “We can have all the gun power in the world, but that doesn’t help us if we can’t get to the _source_!” he angrily flicked the stove on and leaned over the flame watching the water slowly bubble in the kettle.

 

“We have the perfume too, remember.”

 

“But still no direct access to the person we need to use it on.”

  

“That’s true,” Oswald concurred. “and we can’t risk getting captured again. They wont fall for our trick a second time.”

  

Edward silently agreed as he poured the tea. His brain rarely failed him, but when it did it drove him mad. This problem was a riddle, a riddle he could not solve, and he could not have that.

  

“Maybe we should just gas the whole Court headquarters with the perfume, take them all out at once,” Os chucked to himself, accepting the cup being handed to him. “mass mind control.”

  

“I’ve heard worse ideas.” Ed conceded, sitting back on the couch. “Though that does sound incredibly impractical.”

 

“We need to test it more, otherwise we have no idea if it will even be useful to us.” Oswald reached into his pocket to remove the vial. “I’m going to try it on you again, ok?”

  

Ed froze, his eyes focused on the colourless liquid. “I don’t think that’s wise. I can go out and find someone else to test it on.”

  

“No,” Os poured some onto his wrist and carefully put the lid back on. “I want to use it on _you_.”

  

The tone of his voice sent a shiver up Edward’s spine. Penguin was not fooling around; Ed knew him well enough to know that when Oswald was determined to have something, he got it. “Os-“ he was cut off by the smaller man leaping from his seat and into his lap, grabbing his arms firmly. Caught off guard, Ed dropped his tea, the cup shattering on the tiles beneath them. While Oswald was small, he was deceptively strong, especially while his body pinned Ed’s to the couch, leaving him no room to move.

  

Oswald held his hand over Ed’s mouth as firmly as he was able, using his elbows to deflect the long flailing arms that tried to force him off. “Smell it,” he insisted, staring deeply into Edward’s dark eyes. “smell it!”

  

Edward squirmed as much as he could, he hit Oswald as hard as he could, he tried to yell, but nothing. He felt his lungs constricting as he was running out of air. Os had his right wrist by his nose, his other hand covering his mouth. In a few seconds, Ed would have no choice but to smell the perfume. He looked up at his old friend desperately, trying to wordlessly plead for mercy. He got none.

 

“That’s better.” Oswald smiled as Ed’s body finally relaxed beneath him. He’d relented, and breathed in deeply through his nose and instantly, his torso stilled and he stopped resisting. Climbing off The Riddler, Os stood before him, arms crossed and commanding. “I need answers, you will tell me _everything_ you asked me the other day while I was under the influence of this _stuff_.”

 

Ed looked up blankly, his face as robotic and emotionless as the last time. “I asked you if you trusted me and you said no.” he responded dutifully. “I asked if I could trust you and you said yes, then I asked if you had plans to kill me, and you said no.”

 

“That’s it?” Oswald frowned. He would have given the answers to those questions honestly even without coercion.

 

“I asked if you still loved me and you said yes.”

 

Oswald’s eyes widened and he gritted his teeth. He _knew_ it. He knew Ed had been hiding something from him. He clenched his fists in anger, trying his best to stay focused. “ _Why_? Why would you ask me that?” he yelled, using every ounce of self restraint not to reach for one of the many weapons he knew were hidden around the compound. Of all the things Edward could have asked, _this_ was the biggest betrayal. After what he’d put him through, Ed had no right to that information.

 

“I wanted to know.” came the automatic response.

 

“Of _course_ you wanted to know, but _why_? Why would you want to know that? What do you care?”

 

“Because I love you.”

 

“What? Is this a _joke_?” Oswald scowled, kicking Edward’s leg. “Are you just _pretending_ you’re under the influence? Don’t mess with me, Edward, I am _not_ in the mood!”

 

“It’s not a joke.”

 

“I don’t understand. You _don’t_ love me, you told me yourself, more than once. You _shot_ me, Ed, all because you _don’t_ love me!” Os’s voice was trembling along with his body. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes, and his only consolation was the knowledge that Ed would remember none of this. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been so enraged.

 

“I’ve always loved you, but I’ve never wanted to.”

 

The lack of emotion in Ed’s voice made the words all the more painful to hear. Months ago, Oswald would have given anything in the world to hear that his best friend loved him, his feelings for Edward had been all consuming and Os had often found himself caught up in them at inopportune times. But now, those words were less a comfort, and more like daggers piercing his heart. Oswald picked up his now lukewarm tea and sipped it in an attempt to distract himself from the anger rising inside of him. He peered over the lip of the cup and down to Edward, still sitting dutifully before him expectantly, completely unaware of the pain he was inadvertently causing. The calmness in Ed’s eyes made it all the worse. How dare he be like this. How dare he not have to live with the guilt and repercussions of his feelings as Oswald had been forced to. This betrayal was the worst one yet, Os thought to himself, worse than being shot and left for dead.

 

“How could you _do this_ to me!?” Os cried, throwing his cup against the wall. It smashed, joining the pieces of Ed’s already scattered across the floor. He did not wait for an answer, instead he limped over to the makeshift bedroom, shrugged on his coat, and headed for the door. Without his cane it would be slow going, but Oswald needed to get out. He took a deep breath and gently wiped away the tears nestled in his eyes, slamming the door behind him.

 

** *** **

  

“Oswald?” Ed called out, looking around the room. He saw the shattered crockery on the floor and his heart sunk. “Oh dear.” he muttered. As with the last time they had tried out their experiment, Edward had no recollection of what he had said or done while under the influence, but judging by the mess, and the fact that Oswald was no longer in the vicinity, it had not been good. Grabbing his umbrella, Ed bolted out the door.

 

** *** **

 

“I’m sorry I haven’t visited in a while,” Oswald sobbed, wiping the rain from his eyes. It was pouring and it was dark, but he hadn’t known where else to go. “I got into a spot of trouble, _typical_ I know. My best friend, Edward, I told you about him I think… he betrayed me. But I too betrayed him, so I suppose we deserve each other.” he chuckled. He was soaked to the bone, his wet hair stuck to his face, his clothes clung to his shivering limbs. At least he was alone. “You were the only ones who ever loved me. I know I should be grateful, that’s more love than many other people ever know, but I got greedy. I thought one more person wouldn’t hurt, especially as I lost you too soon. I thought Ed would be that person and in light of what I’ve recently discovered I suppose that was almost true, but in reality it’s far from it." Oswald smiled weakly. He had not had time to process what Edward had told him, but he needed to tell someone, anyone. "I think that, with time, I _could_ have forgiven him for trying to kill me, isn’t that crazy? My best friend, the person I loved, he tried to kill me and despite that I still love him and I actually _want_ to forgive him. But finding out that he loved me back, all along, and denied it repeatedly, that’s what I find unforgivable. I suppose I never did have my priorities straight.” Os had stopped holding back his tears. He was wet enough as it was that a little more water wasn’t going to make any difference. “I’m sorry for what he did to you, father.” he sniffed, placing a cold hand on Elijah’s tombstone. It had been months since he'd visited the cemetery. There had been times while staying with Ivy that he'd considered sneaking out but each time he remembered what Ed had done, how he had desecrated his father's grave, he changed his mind. “I wish you were still here, right next to mother, where you belong.”

 

“He is.”

 

Oswald spun around, almost losing his footing in the muddy ground. It didn’t matter that his vision was mostly obscured by the heavy downfall, he’d recognise that voice anywhere.

 

“How dare you come here!” he yelled over the howling wind.

  

“I put him back, Oswald.” Ed said calmly, taking a cautious step forward. “Right after… right after I shot you, I put him back by your mother.” He'd been meaning to tell Oswald what he had done, but there never seemed a good time to tell someone that, even though you had dug up the corpse of his father, you'd had the decency to return him.

It hadn't taken Edward long to find Os, in fact, the cemetery was the first place he looked. No matter how hard he tried to be otherwise, Oswald was an emotional creature, and Ed knew that better than anybody.

 

Oswald was fuming, the very nerve of _him_ to show up here, now of all times. “How long have you been standing there?” he spat, the rage inside of him bursting to boil over.

 

“Long enough,” Edward answered, moving close enough so that they were both sheltered by his umbrella. “I did not mean to eavesdrop but I suppose I don’t always make the best choices.”

 

“You can say that again.” Oswald snarled, stepping back into the rain.

  

Ed sighed. “I can take a guess at what you asked me under duress.” he conceded. “Do you want to talk about it?”

 

Penguin gritted his teeth, trying to hold back the tirade that was balancing on the tip of his tongue. “How _could_ you?” he mumbled, barely audible.

  

“Like I said, I don’t always make the best choices.” Edward fidgeted with the umbrella. He had no idea what to do, should he be consoling his friend? Should he leave him? Neither option sounded ideal, so instead he waited in silence; waited for Oswald to make his move, no matter what that might be, Ed knew he’d deserve it. The minutes passed, and still Edward waited. The rain continued to bucket down around them as they silently stared into the darkness. 

 

Oswald could not organise his thoughts. Since he'd left Ed's hideout he'd been a mess, feeling like he was one wrong turn from spiralling out of control altogether. Coming to see his parents had seemed the obvious solution. While nobody else in the world had ever cared for him, his mother had. She had told him that he was worthwhile, that he could be somebody. Everything he was today, he was because of her. "They would have liked you."

 

"I think I would have liked them too." 

 

"Well," Oswald crossed his arms, the cold now chilling its way through his skin. "I guess we'll never know, will we?"

  

Edward stepped forward again, propping the umbrella down to join his friend in the rain. "I'm sorry, Oswald. I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

 

" _Why_ didn't you?"

  

"I was afraid."

  

Oswald could hardly make out Ed's features in the dark, but he could have sworn he was crying. He reached out, gently cupping Edward's face in his hand, running a finger along his jaw. "Don't be." he muttered softly. 

 

Edward sighed deeply, relaxing into his friend's soft, damp hand. "I love you, Oswald." he mumbled. "I wish I didn't, I've tried not to, but I do."

 

"I can't hear you." Os frowned. The rain hadn't relented since he'd arrived, the howling wind only getting angrier. The little light that there had been had long gone, and left them standing in complete darkness, soaked to the bone, surrounded by the ferocious sounds of the winter storm. 

 

Ed lunged his arms out into the dark, desperately searching for his friend. He placed his hands on either sides of Oswald's wet face and leaned in as close as he could without losing his balance on the muddy ground. "I said," his mouth gently brushed against Os's ear. "I love you." Edward was close enough that he heard his friend gasp softly as the words sprung from within him. A sense of intense relief swept over him, it was out, he had said it, now it was real. He could feel Oswald trembling in his hands, unsure if it was the cold or him who was causing it. He gently swept the hair from Os’s eyes and slowly leaned down, giving his friend plenty of time to put up a protest, but he encountered none. 

 

They touched so briefly it was as though it hadn’t happened. Oswald felt Edward’s slight smile against his lips for only a second before his mouth was consumed by Ed’s. The warmth of the kiss swept over Os’s body as he relaxed into it, allowing himself to fall into Edward’s arms. He grabbed onto his jacket, fingers digging into his hips, deepening their embrace. Much to his relief, Ed did not object. 

  

Time stopped but the rain kept falling. Edward did not want their moment to end, a moment he had wanted for so long, but it could not last forever. He ran his hands down Oswald’s face and rested them on his shoulders as he withdrew slowly from their kiss. “That was nice.” he smiled tenderly.

 

Oswald did not respond immediately. He breathed deeply, eyes closed, and collapsed into Edward’s chest. He felt his friend’s long arms wrap around him, holding him close. “Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much angst, fluff, and more angst. I've realised there's a lot of dialogue in my stories, I'm not sure if that's good or bad. Next chapter is more action packed though, so less chit chat.
> 
> 29.5.17- minor corrections and additions


	5. Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward and Oswald develop a plan and get distracted.

“We can’t use it again,” Edward said, breaking the silence as the pair arrived back at his hideout. Neither had spoken on the walk from the cemetery, instead opting to listen to the sounds of the furious storm and the rain pelting down around them. “not on each other.” he added hastily. Oswald hobbled past him, quickly shrugging out of his soaking wet coat and tossing it over a chair before retreating to the bathroom.

 

Os slammed the door behind him and leaned over the sink in anticipation of the sickness in his stomach turning into something much worse. He glanced up into the mirror; he was a mess, inside and out. The events of the evening rattled around in his head as he turned on the shower, grateful for the warmth that was slowly defrosting his freezing cold skin. “What the hell is happening?” he mumbled to himself, stepping underneath the steamy water. 

 

Edward shed his soaking clothes in favour of something that hadn’t been hanging out in a downpour, and put the kettle on. The realisation of what had happened, what he had _done_ hit him all at once as he heard the shower turn on. He’d kissed Oswald, and there was no going back from that. He’d _told_ him how he felt, how he’d felt for a long time, that was out there and would never be a secret again. Ed felt sick. As much as his repressed feelings had been weighing on him, he'd grown accustomed to dealing with the guilt and the deception. Guarding himself against acting on his darkest desires had never been his strong suit, _except_ when it came to telling Oswald how he felt. Even after finding out that Penguin was in love with him, all those months ago, Ed had held strong, not only because Isabella had entered his life, but because he had been too much of a coward to fess up. **“You’ve done it now,”** snarled a sinister voice. **“you’ve left yourself open and that’s a door you can never close.”** Ed breathed deeply, silently cursing himself for the mess he’d created.

The whistle of the kettle snapped him out of his daze, abruptly interrupting his self loathing thoughts of how he had potentially ruined everything, again. **“What will you do if he’s wrong about her?”** Edward’s hands trembled as he poured his tea. “I’ll deal with that later.” he muttered, pushing the intrusive thoughts from his mind.

 

It had been a week since The Riddler had kidnapped Mayor James on television, six days since being locked up by the court, four days since he had discovered Oswald was still alive, two days since they’d escaped, and an hour since he had kissed the best friend he’d ever had, the same friend he had wanted dead not that long ago. Ed sighed and fell into the couch. Oswald liked to say that he attracted trouble, but Edward couldn’t help but feel that he was doing a good job of it himself lately. He sipped his tea in silence when a realisation suddenly dawned on him.

 

“Oswald,” Ed knocked on the bathroom door gently, opening it a crack. “I can’t find any more clean clothes of yours, so I’m leaving you some of mine. I’ll sort out laundry tomorrow.”

 

Os waited until he heard the door click shut before glancing out of the shower. He could see what appeared to be green tartan pyjama pants and a white undershirt pooled on the floor. He smiled weakly and returned to the warmth and comfort of the water. The longer he stayed in the bathroom, the longer he could avoid the inevitable uncomfortable conversation Edward would no doubt want to have. When his wrinkly fingers started to resemble something rather corpse-like, Oswald decided it was finally time to drag himself from the shower. He dried himself off, and awkwardly pulled on the clothes he’d been supplied. 

 

“Do these come in my size?” he asked sheepishly, standing in the bathroom doorway, glancing over at the couch.

 

Ed stifled a laugh. “Oh dear, at least it’s temporary.” his smile broadened as Oswald limped towards him, tartan pyjama pants doing everything they could to escape his short, slim legs; the undershirt more of a dress, and struggling to stay on the small man’s shoulders. “That look is quite becoming of you.”

 

Penguin rolled his eyes and sat down. “Says the man who goes on jaunts around Gotham in a sparkly green suit.” he snorted. While he had initially been taken aback by Ed’s new persona, the ridiculous name and worse hat causing Os to cringe in secondhand embarrassment when he first lay eyes on them, he had a soft spot for the suit. Gotham’s villains weren’t the flashy sort, but Ed never seemed to care; he wanted to both fit in and stand out at the same time, and what better way to do so than to glisten and gleam all over the city?

 

“I’ll have my tailor make you one, maybe in purple.”

 

Oswald smiled and fiddled with the drawstring on his pyjamas. Their living situation was starting to feel like old times at the mansion. They would sit on the couch and talk for hours, usually about business, but it had been a source of comfort for Penguin. He knew that, no matter what had happened in his day, in the underworld, or at City Hall, he would always have Ed to come home to, and Edward Nygma always knew the right thing to say. Even when he'd come out with one of his absurd riddles, or not-at-all funny jokes, his presence alone was enough to warm Oswald's icy heart. “I don’t want to talk about this.” he mumbled, not looking up from his careful inspection of the fabric.

 

“About my suit?”

 

“You know what I mean.”

 

Edward sighed and set down his tea cup. “Alright, but-“ he started, before being interrupted by Oswald’s lips pressed upon his own for the second time that evening. Ed hadn’t even seen his friend move, but before he knew it, Os was leaning over his long, lithe body, a hand carelessly weaving its way through his still sopping wet hair. Edward’s body relaxed the minute the warmth hit his mouth, the euphoria swept its way through him, down his neck, and landed deep in his chest. He lifted a hand to gently stroke along Oswald’s narrow jaw, pulling him in deeper to their embrace, as he cautiously ran his tongue along his friend’s lower lip.

 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Oswald withdrew abruptly, jumping off the couch to hobble towards the bed. “Good night.”

 

The Riddler frowned, left dumbfounded and alone, his lips still red and swollen from Os’s sudden bout of passion. “Good night, Oswald.”

 

*******

 

Oswald woke with a start. Something was wrong, and it wasn’t the usual problem he’d been having of awaking to his legs stuck in Edward’s death grip. He turned cautiously to find his friend’s head nuzzled comfortably into his neck, his long arms wrapped firmly around his torso. For whatever reason, Ed had decided to forgo their head-to-toe sleeping arrangement for the more traditional setup. Penguin sighed and tried to figure out how he could slip out of his bedfellow’s grasp without waking him, before quickly abandoning the idea. No, he’d allow himself to have this one, to enjoy the embrace, however fleeting and probably accidental it may be. He smiled wearily and drifted back to sleep.

 

*******

 

“Sorry about last night,”Ed apologised over breakfast. “I’m not sure what happens when I sleep, I suddenly get the urge to hold on to something.” he shrugged, pouring them each another cup of tea. 

 

“I bet Strange had a field day with you.” 

 

Edward smiled wickedly. “He would have, had I _let_ him.” he had a mouthful of toast before realising what he’d said. “Oh, no, Oswald, I don’t mean that you-“

 

“It’s ok, Ed.” Oswald smiled weakly. “What’s done is done.” He knew what Ed had said wasn’t a joke at his expense, but the memories of the torture he suffered at Arkham were still fresh in his mind. Os had often wondered if he’d done the right thing in allowing the Professor to escape with Fish Mooney. While he had had a valid reason to free his old boss, Strange had done nothing to warrant his forgiveness. Next time they met, he wouldn’t be so lucky. “I’ve had a thought about what we can do regarding our Court problem. You won’t like it, but I think it’s the best shot we’ve got.”

 

“I’m listening.”

 

“You need to go back to The Sirens and tell them I’m alive.”

 

*******

 

“He’s _what?_ ” Barbara yelled, her shrill voice echoing throughout the club, the bottle of wine she’d smashed scattered across the floor.

 

“Very much alive, unfortunately.”

 

Tabitha scoffed and folded her arms defensively. “Why should we believe _you_? It’s one crazy story after another. Do you think we’re _stupid_?”

 

“Do you really want me to answer that?” Ed frowned, stepping closer towards the trio. “Oswald Cobblepot is alive, and that is a problem, for _all_ of us.” he added, glaring at Butch. Os had been right, he _didn’t_ like the plan, however he had to admit it was deviously clever, like most of the ideas the little bird had.

 

“You’re the one who shot him and dumped him in the river, not us!”

 

“Oh Butch,” Ed tutted. “I knew your hand was made of lead, didn’t know your head was too.”

 

Butch scowled. “Cute.”

 

“Thank you.This isn’t just a _me_ problem anymore. All three of you helped me murder Penguin, so in his eyes, we’re all guilty.” it took all of his concentration not to grimace at the reminder of what he had done. Oswald had told him exactly what to say, he had to stick with it, no matter how uncomfortable it made him. “While I certainly am responsible for the lion’s share of the blame, blame I am _more_ than happy to accept, I just _couldn’t_ have done it without my three favourite people.” he grinned.

 

“You’ve gotta be kidding m-“

 

“He’s right,” Barbara interjected. “We’ve gotta take Penguin out now. Where did you say he was?”

 

“At the same Court prison I was held in. I snuck back in last night to start taking care of business and I saw him in a cage identical to the one in which I was imprisoned. They must have found him after I escaped, he’s certainly seen better days. That being said, I overheard a guard say they’d be moving him today, but not where to. I suspect we’ll need the head honcho for that information.”

 

“Why didn’t you just take him out last night then?” Tabitha frowned.

 

“You know, I really _am_ starting to believe you _are_  stupid,” Ed mused. “because, my dear Tabitha, if I were to let off a round in an underground bunker I would be certain to draw a huge amount of attention to myself. I will _not_ go back into captivity just to kill _Penguin_. But,” he snapped his gaze back at Barbara, knowing full well it was her he needed to convince. “as we both know, Oswald Cobblepot has _got_ to go. For _good_.”

 

*******

 

“So how were the dream team?” Oswald asked, beaming as Ed came through the door.

 

“Delightful, as always.” came the dry response. “I’m not sure this is a safe idea. It’s clever, but it involves a huge amount of risk for you.”

 

Oswald shrugged. “That’s true, but it’s all we’ve got. Besides, I cant stay in hiding forever, and this also gives me an opportunity to introduce my _new_ friends to the old ones.” he smiled deviously at the thought. So far he’d only brought Brigit along to meet Jim, but he was sure Barbara and her cohort would be far more impressed. “The biggest hurdle will be getting through to Detective Gordon again.”

 

“Well, he does seem to have a soft spot for you.” Edward remarked. “Do you have a plan?”

 

“Oh Ed,” Oswald smiled broadly, picking up the spare phone he’d been using. “always.” he waited patiently as the ringing echoed in his ears. “Jim, it’s your favourite friend. Yes, well, I always find a way. I need a favour… oh come on, I saved you from that ninja, if it hadn’t been for me you would hav- yes, yes, stop being difficult, I need information. I know, that you know, where the leader of this Court is, and I need you to tell me. I don’t _care_ if you’re ‘a bit busy right now’, we’ve _all_ got things going on Jim, and you _owe_ me. Would it sweeten the deal if I offered to kill her? Ok, ok no killing her, but I need to… yes… yes, that can be arranged. _Thank you_ , Jim. See that wasn’t so hard wa-“ Oswald looked down at the phone in disgust. “He hung up on me.”

 

“Did he give you the information we need?”

 

“Of course. He always does.”

 

"Good old Jimbo, so reliable."

 

Oswald had had a productive morning while Ed had been out. The plan was completely hashed out, and now thanks to the last pieces of the puzzle, courtesy of Edward and Detective Gordon, they were primed and ready to go. "How does tomorrow night sound?" he asked, an excited and sinister ring to his voice has he looked up into his friend's dark eyes.

 

Edward smiled wickedly and placed his hands on Oswald's shoulders. "I can't wait."

Given the unexpected, but very welcome, surprise of Os kissing him on the couch the previous night, Ed wasn't entirely sure where they stood on the matter of affection. He supposed, however, that if there ever was a good time, this had to be it. He ran his large hands over Oswald's shoulders and down his arms, squeezing gently as he pulled him in closer. The Riddler could feel his friend shiver beneath him, his breath caught in his chest. Ed swallowed nervously, it still felt like the first time. As with the  _actual_ first time, Edward was met with no protest as he crushed their mouths together. He moaned softly as Oswald's lips parted, allowing him to bite his bottom lip, and run his tongue along the top. Ed smiled as he felt Os's arms wrap around his neck, deepening their kiss as his mouth was invaded. 

 

Oswald sighed deeply as Edward's hands continued to run down him, before settling on his hips. The warmth of their bodies pressed together was electrifying, each time Ed's teeth bit into his lip fireworks went off in his mind. He pulled Ed's head down into his own,  gripping a handful of his flawless hairdo in his fist to ensure he wasn't going anywhere without permission.

 

"Mm, Oswald," Ed muttered, his eyes fluttering open and looking kindly upon him. "you're a _very_ good kisser." 

 

Os blushed, his eyes darting to his feet. "You're not bad yourself, Mister Nygma." he smiled. "We're not getting much work done."

 

"No, but there are more _pressing_ matters at hand, surely." Ed grinned, planting a soft, chaste kiss on Oswald's rosey lips. 

 

"Come with me." Os took Ed's hand and lead him away from their makeshift living room, towards the equally provisional bedroom.

 

Ed frowned in concern. "Uh, Oswald, while in principle I'm not against a-"

 

Penguin sat on the bed, patting the spot next to him. "What? No,  _no!_ " he said in alarm, realising what Edward thought he was suggesting. "It's just," he bit his lip in embarrassment. "you're a bit taller than me and so it's hard to, you know, hold on. I thought here we might be on more equal footing."

 

"Well, that's something I can get behind." Ed smiled, taking a seat. "Whatever you want," he planted a firm, open mouthed kiss on Os's waiting lips, not bothering to work his way up to anything, but forcing his tongue inside, claiming Oswald for himself. " _Mister_ Penguin." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lateness and slightly shorter chapter, been a busy week. A new, extra long chapter will be up on Saturday though :D
> 
> Story not following canon/timeline of show.
> 
> Payoff is near, I promise.
> 
> 25.5.17- made updates to previous chapters, mostly grammar and minor additions.


	6. Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oswald and Edward seek answers from The Court, and each other.

For the second morning in a row, Oswald woke up playing little spoon to his best friend who was sprawled across him. Long arms wrapped around Os’s small torso, Ed’s mangled bed hair rustled upon his neck, his right leg wrapped over Penguin’s own. Against his better judgement, Oswald smiled and gripped onto one of Edward’s hands, holding it tight to his chest. He knew this happiness would not last, surely it couldn’t, so he was going to enjoy it while he could. 

 

“Good morning,” Ed grinned sleepily as he felt Os take hold of his hand. “I thought you’d be asleep forever.”

 

“How long have you been awake?”

 

Edward stretched his legs and nuzzled further into the crook of Oswald’s neck. “Hmm about an hour.” he mumbled. “I’m trying not to think about tonight too much, so staying in bed seemed like a very attractive option.” The Riddler withdrew his free arm from Os’s waist, and ran his hand under his undershirt, and up his chest, gently digging his nails in as he trailed the soft, warm skin beneath. “Speaking of very attracti-“

 

Oswald spun his body around so the two were face to face. “Have you told the others that we’re doing it tonight?”

 

“Yes,” Ed grumbled in reply, annoyed that his advances had apparently gone unnoticed. “have you told your, uh, _friends_ too?”

 

“Pass me the phone, I’ll text Ivy now.”

 

“I’m not sure why you trust her so much,” Edward frowned, passing the phone from the bedside table. “she’s a child, and you hardly know her.”

 

“Yes, well,” Os didn’t look up from prodding the buttons. “I’ve been betrayed by everyone _else_ so I don’t have much choice.” No sooner had he sent the text informing Ivy of the evening’s plans did he get a response back, confirming she, along with Victor and Brigit, would be there. He tossed the phone across the bed and looked up into his friend’s eyes, seeing only hurt and discomfort. “I’m sorry, Ed, I shouldn’t have said that.”

 

“No, it’s true. I’m not really in a position to talk about trust, am I?” Edward smiled sadly and rolled onto his back, his eyes fixated on the ceiling. “What about Jim Gordon, do you trust him?”

 

Oswald propped himself up on his elbow, his spare hand grasping one of Ed’s. “Yes, at least in this instance I do.”

 

“He has a tendency to give you information that backfires. How do you know this wont too?”

 

“Because,” Os gently kissed Edward’s hand and held it to his cheek. The warmth radiated over his face as Ed’s long fingers worked their way through his hair. “Jim gave me the location of this Court woman at a price, and he wont get what he wants unless we succeed.”

 

“Do we get to kill her? I would love to-“

 

“No, nothing like that. Jim quite explicitly said he wants her left alive.”

 

Edward shrugged and tightened his grip on the back of Oswald’s head. “Shame. It’s been a while since we’ve had _fun_ together.” he smiled wickedly, his dark eyes lighting up at the thought. 

 

“Oh do our captors from last week not count? Don’t worry,” Penguin grinned down at him, finger tips delicately tracing Ed’s eager lips. “I’m sure _others_ will be happy to sacrifice themselves for our benefit.” he leant over his friend’s slim body and kissed him gently, smiling as he heard Ed moan softly in approval. “You’re easy to please.” he mumbled, tenderly biting Edward’s lip, tasting it with his tongue. “ _And_ you taste good.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Ed teased, running a warm hand down Oswald’s back, pulling him in closer. “Do you have much to compare me with?”

 

“That, is none of your business.” Os responded in mock outrage. “Besides, I know what I like.” he kissed Edward again, harder, forcing his tongue past the barrier of teeth to drink him in. Penguin could feel himself losing balance, propped precariously on his bad leg, but before he had a chance to reposition himself, Ed had pulled his small body on top of his own, so Os was straddling his hips, their lips still fused together. 

Oswald’s body shivered as Ed’s second hand joined his first in working its way beneath his undershirt, running up his back to pull him even closer. They ran back down him, past his waist, along his hips, and rested on his backside, squeezing gently.

 

Ed groaned in approval, his hips subtly grinding their way up as the warmth from Oswald’s tiny body spread its way over his torso, and down to his crotch. “You,” he said breathily, sparing a hand to push Os’s hair from his face. “drive me crazy.” He looked up into the pale green eyes above him and was relieved to see his friend smiling back at him.

 

“Edward Nygma, you were plenty crazy before I got my hands on you.”

 

“While we’re on the topic of your hands on me, I’m having trouble thinking of much else right now.”

 

Oswald pursed his lips nervously. “I’d noticed. Did you, uh, want help with that?”

 

The Riddler’s eyes widened at the offer, while he had _hoped,_ he’d never expected his friend to _make_ such an offer. “R-really? You don’t have to.”

 

“Are we going to just make out like awkward teenagers forever?” Os asked, making every effort to sound as confident as possible to mask his crippling insecurities about the situation. “Besides, I wouldn’t offer if I didn't _want_ to.” he carefully climbed off of Ed’s eager body, inspecting him head to toe. Though he’d known it for a very long time, he couldn’t help but admire just how beautiful he was, even hidden beneath what little clothing he was wearing. It took no effort to tug Ed’s undershirt off over his head, leaving him sprawled on the bed in nothing but his green briefs, conspicuously bulging at the front. Oswald swept a hand over them, barely making contact, but it was enough to make Edward squirm and let out a breathy moan. He repeated the motion, applying more pressure, and a soft kiss to Ed’s hip.

 

“Mm, Oswald,” Ed groaned, biting his lip to prevent himself from getting too vocal too soon. “don’t do anything you don’t want to, just-“

 

“Ed,” Oswald lifted his head from his friend’s body, one hand rested half way under his last remaining clothing. “you wanted hands, that’s what you’ll get. Shut up.”

 

“Yes sir.” Edward smiled blissfully. Not many people could get away with telling him what to do, but he was more than happy to let Oswald be the exception. His breath caught in his throat as he felt Os’s fingers wrap around his cock and run their way along its length slowly. At the risk of looking too eager, Ed hooked his fingers under his briefs, and pulled them off in one swift motion, freeing himself from their confines. He nervously glanced over at Oswald, delighting in seeing the hungry look in his eyes. “Mm, that’s good.”

 

Oswald tightened his grip on his friend’s erection, stroking his fingers up its length eagerly as he worked his way to a quick rhythm. He leaned over Ed’s hot, perspiring chest and, not relenting with his hand, kissed him hard, their lips crushing together as they each fought for dominance. Edward broke first, gasping for air as his hips bucked beneath Os’s ever quickening movements. Oswald smiled at the small victory and carefully ran his thumb over the head of Edward’s cock, revelling in the noises that came out of his friend’s mouth as he did so. He repeated the motion, spreading the moisture down Ed’s shaft, gripping him firmly and remained unrelenting as he jerked him with vigour. The makeshift lubricant allowed Oswald to manoeuvre his way up his friend’s body without having to sacrifice the steady pace he had maintained, and was causing Ed so much apparent pleasure. He ran his spare hand up Ed’s chest, pinching a nipple firmly as he worked his way up his neck and buried his fingers through Edward’s dishevelled locks. “You like that, huh?” he whispered into Ed’s ear, his tongue brushing gently along the bottom of his jaw. 

 

The Riddler moaned in approval, managing to mumble a breathy “yes” before quickly being distracted by Oswald’s teeth biting gently on his neck, all the while his cock was aching for release. 

“Oh god…” he sighed, wrapping an arm around Os to keep him held close. His nails dug deep into his shoulder involuntarily each time he felt teeth scrape along the most sensitive part of his neck, lips tenderly kissing the bites left in their wake. Edward shut his eyes in an attempt to focus, his body betraying him at every turn. His hips bucked up into Oswald's hand, desperate for more contact, his hand working its way all over his friend's body, every part he could reach, he wanted to touch it all. “Os, I’m so close.” Ed moaned, doing his best to distract himself from the burning desire to give in too soon. It was to no avail, as the next time Edward felt his friend’s thumb over the throbbing head of his cock, he knew he could not hold on a second longer.

 

Penguin smiled triumphantly as he felt Ed’s hot cum fill his hand and seep onto his own stomach. The quick rise and fall of his chest was hypnotic, his pupils dilated and fixated on Oswald in apparent shock. “Half an hour ago I would have thought there was no way you could possibly get more beautiful,” Os said softly, using his clean hand to sweep Ed’s unkept hair from his eyes. “but this is something I could get used to.”

 

Smiling weakly, Ed reached for the box of tissues on the beside table, handing it to Oswald. “It’s all your fault.” 

 

“Good.” Os threw away his used tissues and kissed Edward gently on the forehead. “I’d hate for it to be anyone else's.”

 

Edward sat up and leant against the bed head, his breathing finally returning to normal. “Did you want me to, um…” he nodded slightly towards Os’s lower half, still fully clothed in loose pyjama pants which gave nothing away.

 

“Oh, um, no that’s ok.” Oswald blushed, looking away sheepishly. 

 

“So, _that_ did nothing for you?” Ed frowned, feeling both disappointed and guilty.

 

“It did,” Os reassured him. “but I can wait. For now.”

 

Knowing there was no point in pressing the matter, Ed pulled his friend in tightly against his chest and stroked his hair gently. They sat in silence for several minutes, Oswald enjoying the comforting hand on his head and the rhythmic heartbeat in Ed’s chest. Edward planted a soft kiss to Os’s shoulder. “You’re very good at that, you know.” 

 

“Ed. If you have something to say, then say it. Don’t beat around the bush.”

 

“I’m guessing it wasn’t your first time then?” Edward asked nervously, knowing it was none of his business, but curiosity had got the better of him.

 

“No.” Os smiled. “Though I did go to a Jewish school so, uh, it was different.”

 

Edward chuckled softly. “Well, I’m glad I could be your first in _some_ sense.”

 

Oswald wrapped his arm around his friend’s middle, nuzzling into his chest. They could afford to stay in bed a little while longer.

 

*******

 

“So you’re clear on what you’re doing?” Ed asked nervously. He’d been pacing up and down the alley since they’d arrived, his long fingers tapping together anxiously.

 

“Ed, this plan was _my_ idea. I know exactly what I’m doing.” Oswald assured him. “Ivy will be here any moment, I’m sure of it.”

 

The pair had spent the afternoon going over every detail of what they needed to do, and the laundry list of things that could potentially go wrong, each of which would spell a quick end for them both.There was no room for error. They weren’t far from address Jim had provided, where Ed was to meet the Sirens crew at eight o’clock. The Riddler looked down at his watch. Seven fifty-six. They were running out of time. “I have to go, if I’m not on time they’ll know something is up.” he quickly placed a soft kiss on Os’s lips before heading out to the street. Ed paused as he reached the curb, looking back over his shoulder. “Oswald, I don’t know what’s going to happen, but in case this doesn’t go to plan, I want you to know that I love you.”

 

Oswald opened his mouth to respond, but The Riddler was gone, making his way towards the brownstone Jim had directed them to the previous evening. Ed’s shimmering green suit reflected vibrantly off the yellow streetlights, until he disappeared entirely into the darkness. Oswald breathed in deeply.

 

“Isn’t that the guy you wanted dead?”

 

Os almost jumped out of his skin. “Ivy!” he hissed. “Don’t _do_ that!”

 

“I can take him out right now.” Brigit smiled, firing up her flame thrower.

 

“No, don’t do _that_ either! Hopefully, _we_ wont be killing _anybody_ tonight, least of all Edward.” Os looked frantically into the darkness. “Where’s Victor?”

 

“I’m here.” a deep voice replied, though Oswald was none the wiser as to where exactly he was. No matter, everyone was there. 

 

“Good. Remember, we are _not_ taking anybody out tonight, not if it can be avoided.” he instructed, peering around the corner towards the Brownstone. Barbara, Butch, and Tabitha had pulled up and were talking to Ed on the footpath. It was almost go time. 

 

“Then why are we even here?” Brigit asked, disappointed. “Can’t you handle this without us?”

 

“This is a show of _strength,_ Brigit. Those traitors need to know what they’re up against. There’s no point taking all three of them out now, not before I’ve taken back what is rightfully mine. I need them to _know_ they’ve been defeated.” Oswald explained. He saw the four shadowy figures up the road enter the brownstone and disappear from view. “We’ve gotta go.” he motioned for them to follow him, silently up the road.

 

“Why am _I_ here then?” Ivy asked inquisitively. “I don’t look very scary.”

 

Oswald pulled the vial from his breast pocket. “We need you to administer this.” he explained, handing it to her.

 

Ivy’s eyes widened as she saw what Penguin had given her. “How did you get this?”

 

“No time to explain, can you use it on the woman in here?”

 

“I”m not sure,” Ivy replied. “It wont work on just anyone.”

 

Oswald stopped abruptly and turned to her. “What?”

 

“Well, it’ll only work on people if they’re attracted to you.” She explained, as though that should have been obvious. “I used it on those thugs of Gabe’s because they all thought I was super cute, so of course they did whatever I wanted. It’ll only make people do what they would do anyway, it’s more of an encouragement.”

 

“W-what about as a truth teller?” Oswald stammered, mentally kicking himself for not clearing this up earlier. 

 

Ivy paused. “Maybe. If it doesn’t work when I try we can get one of you to do it? Maybe you or freezer boy are more her type? Or maybe your boyfriend?”

 

“He’s not my-“ Oswald stammered. He breathed in deeply before continuing. “Doesn’t matter. One of us will get it to work, or we’ll go to plan b.” They’d reached the steps of the brownstone, thankfully Ed had left the door slightly ajar. “Follow me, quietly.” Os instructed. The corridor was pitch black, but they could see light coming from the top of the stairs, along with quite the commotion.

 

“Shut up and tell me!” came the signature cry of The Riddler, echoing throughout the house. “I have no qualms in killing you, so tell me!”

 

Oswald silently motioned for his companions to follow him up the stairs. As they got closer to the top, the yelling only got louder.

 

“Ed, what the hell?” Barbara asked, her shrill voice bouncing off the walls. “Quit it and let’s just find out about Penguin.”

 

“You can sort your pathetic love life out anytime, freak,” Tabitha’s voice interjected. “We only need to know where Penguin is.”

 

“Well that’s easy.” Oswald smiled as he came to the top of the stairs. It was a beautiful sight to behold, the old blonde woman he’d met several months ago was tied up in the middle of the room, surrounded by Edward, Butch, Tabitha, and Barbara, each holding a gun on her but looking at him, a look of awe and disgust plastered across their faces. All except for Ed, who looked positively enamoured. Penguin walked slowly into the room, closely followed by his new friends, Brigit and Victor with their guns at the ready, Ivy coming up the rear. “Isn’t this a lovely reunion, hm?” he grinned in delight. “It’s _so_ nice to see you all again.”

 

“How the hell are you alive, Oswald?” Butch growled, unsure who he should be pointing his gun at. 

 

“Now _that_ would be telling.” Os knew he should not be having so much fun, but the only good thing about dying, was getting to come back from the dead. “I have no quarrel with you backstabbers this evening, my only interest is in her.” he motioned to Kathryn who had remained silent. 

 

“Not so easily, Oswald.” Ed snarled, right on cue. He moved his aim to point squarely at Os’s chest. 

 

“Now, now, Edward. I suspect that what I want from her will interest you as well. Besides, I’d hate for any of you to anger my friends here.” he gestured to the freaks behind him who were only too happy to show off what their weaponry was capable of. “Now,” he hobbled to the centre of the room, leaning heavily on his cane. “you there,” he looked down on Kathryn, his jaw clenched and eyes wide. He couldn’t kill her, not yet anyway, to hell with Jim. “you will tell Edward what you did.”

 

Kathryn frowned. “What _who_ did, Mister Cobblepot?”

 

Os smiled. “Oh come now, you know _exactly_ what I mean. Tell him about _Isabella_.” he demanded, smacking her across the face with his walking stick as hard as he could. 

 

The smack rang out loudly throughout the room, Kathryn winced as a red mark appeared on her cheek. “I don’t know who you’re talking about,” came the curt response. “and even if I did, why would I tell any of you?”

 

“Liar!” Oswald cried, hitting her again. “Ivy! The perfume.”

 

Ivy came forward dutifully, rubbing some of her concoction on her wrist. She covered Kathryn’s mouth tight with one hand, forcing her other under her nose. It didn’t take long before the trapped woman breathed in heavily. “Now, _tell Edward everything you know about Isabella!_ ” Ivy demanded, trying her best to sound threatening. 

 

Kathryn frowned up at them. “I… she…I, he, and I, she-” she struggled, tripping over her words.

 

“What’s she saying?”

 

“I _told_ you it might not work!” Ivy whispered harshly. “You know, I’m not really her _type._ ”

 

“It doesn’t need to work perfectly, just enough.” Ed snarled, kicking the chair their captive was seated on. “Speak!”

 

“Ed, what is go-“

 

“Shut up!” The Riddler yelled, pointing his gun across the room at Barbara. “So help me, I will get answers from this _monster._ You and I can speak later.”

 

“She… Strange… In…Indian… She… Court…” Kathryn babbled incoherently. Her mouth and her mind looked disconnected as she shook her head in frustration, trying desperately to get her thoughts in order. “No! Court… Strange…”

 

“Oh that’s it.” Tabitha rolled her eyes and pulled her trigger, putting a bullet square between Kathryn’s eyes. Her lifeless body slumped in the chair.

 

“No!” Edward cried, rushing to the middle of the room, knowing instantly there was nothing he could do. “Tabitha, you bitch, what the hell are you doing?” he growled, pointing his own weapon from Barbara to the woman at her side. “She was going to tell the truth!”

 

“Who _cares?_ ” came the response. Tabitha pointed her gun at Oswald. “It’s _him_ we came for, not your pathetic love life. _Get over it!_ ” she snarled. 

 

“If you shoot him you won’t make it out alive.” Brigit warned, firing up her gun, the flames warming the entire room. 

 

“Oh yeah, firebug? Wanna try us?” Barbara sneered, joining her partner in pointing her weapon at Penguin. 

 

“GCPD!” came an all too familiar voice from downstairs. 

 

The villainous gathering on the second floor froze, eyes darting around the room, each unsure what to do.

“Just what we need.” Butch rolled his eyes, grabbing Tabitha by the wrist. “Come on, Baby, we’ve gotta go.”

 

The pair disappeared in seconds, closely followed by Barbara, just in time for Jim Gordon and Harvey Bullock to come creeping up the stairs.

 

“Jim,” Oswald smiled, attempting to hide the anger building inside of him. “as always your timing is _impeccable_.” 

 

“Nygma?” Bullock queried, squinting across the room. “Of course it is, who else would be dressed like a Christmas tree? Put your hands up, Nygma!”

 

“No,” Ed grinned in response. “I don’t think so, Harvey.”

 

Victor stepped in front of the detectives, looking down on them in silence.

 

“My friends here are quite protective of me and mine,” Oswald explained happily, placing a hand on each of Brigit and Victor’s shoulders. “you would be wise not to cross them.” he threatened.

 

“Oswald, he shot you and dumped you in the river.” Detective Gordon frowned in confusion, gun still firmly pointing at Ed. 

 

Os shrugged. “We’ve moved past that, water under the bridge, or harbour, I should say.” he chuckled, looking over his shoulder at The Riddler who still had his trademark grin plastered across his face. “Now, lower your weapons, detectives. We are leaving.”

 

Jim’s eyes darted to the middle of the room. “Is she dead? Oswald, I _told_ you no-“

 

Penguin’s eyes darkened as he stepped towards the officers, careful not to get too far from the protection of his new friends. “Detective Gordon, do you remember all those times you _helped_ me over the years? Those times that you said you were doing me a favour, and each and every time I would end up in even _more_ trouble than when I started? Well,” he glanced behind him at Kathryn’s corpse. “payback is a bitch.”

 

Edward’s laugh rang throughout the room. “That’s what you get, Jimbo,” he growled. “all your actions come back to bite you in the ass.” he was now standing inline with Os, shanked by Victor and Brigit, there was no need to continue brandishing a weapon. “Let’s go, Oswald, we need to put the information this vile woman gave us to good use.”

"What information, Oswald?" Jim's voice called from the top floor as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

 

"That's for me to know, and you to find out, if you're lucky." Os yelled back. He reached out and grabbed Edward by the hand, leading him back out into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got to update the fic rating to explicit :)


	7. Perfection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward and Oswald collaborate on some artwork, and delve deeper into their developing relationship.

As they stepped out into the cold night Edward could not help but laugh. Oswald was dragging him down the street back to the car they’d parked down one of Gotham’s many alleys, waiting for their getaway. As much as he enjoyed executing his own elaborate, murderous plans, there was something so thrilling about teaming up with his old friend. The night had hardly gone as they had hoped, and that horrible Tabitha had killed the Court woman far too soon for Ed’s liking, but being there when her head got blown off, being there with Oswald, had been a rush. Even if neither of them had been the ones to pull the trigger, _they_ had been in control of that room, _they_ had surprised the others, and _they_ now had the upper hand on the GCPD. Overall, it had been a success. 

 

“Ed, quiet down!” Os hissed as they darted down the side street. “This area will be swarming with cops any moment now.” Victor, Brigit, and Ivy had made their own escape back to the greenhouse hideout, now they just had to make themselves scarce. The black sedan was right where they’d left it, barely visible from the street. As the pair got closer another figure appeared in the darkness. “Hey!” Os yelled, pulling the knife from his cane.

 

“Don’t move.” Ed demanded, drawing his gun and pointing it at the shadowy figure, slowly making his way towards the man. “And what,” he sneered, his weapon now flush against the stranger’s trembling chest. “do you think you’re doing?”

 

“N-nothing, I’m sorry!”

 

Oswald had caught up to Edward and glanced over their detainee. He was young, but had the eyes, and the scars, of someone who had had his share of weapons pointed at him in the past. “It didn’t look like ‘nothing’,” Penguin snarled. “it almost looked like you were putting something on our car.” Os reached under the wheel and felt around until he found what he was looking for. “Look at that, I was right.” he held up the small black box for Ed to see, delighting in the terrified look now plastered across the stranger’s face.

 

The Riddler grinned, taking the device from this partner. “A tracker? Interesting,” he mused, his gaze diverting back to the man. “now why would you be putting this on my car, I wonder?”

 

“I-it was a mistake, wrong car, obviously, I’m sorry, I-“

 

“Raymond, what kind of _fool_ do you take me for?” Edward growled, throwing the tracker to the ground and crushing it under his heel. He advanced on the man, grabbing him by the collar of his cheap black shirt. “Barbara got stingy and used the work experience kid,” he chuckled, turning to Os. “he only started with us a couple of weeks ago. Poor Raymond.”

 

Oswald twirled his knife in his hand and licked his lips excitedly. “Is that so? Seems like Barbara was on to you earlier than we expected, that’s a shame.” he shrugged, gently running the blade down Raymond’s face, resting it against his neck. “So, _Riddler_ , shall I kill him, or would _you_ like that honour?”

 

Raymond tensed in terror, his eyes darting between the two madmen before him. “No, no please don’t! I-I can be useful, I’ll tell you anything!” he stammered desperately. 

 

“I’ve heard that before,” Oswald rolled his eyes and looked up at Edward. “what do you think?”

 

Ed smiled cruelly. “He doesn’t know anything I don’t already know myself. However, he might be able to deliver a message for us, back to The Sirens.”

 

“Y-yes! Yes I can do that, tell me, what’s the message, M-mister Nygma?”

 

“My name,” Edward snarled. “Is _The Riddler_. And oh no, you wont need to memorise a single word,” he laughed, pointing his gun at the ground. He pulled the trigger, putting a bullet through Raymond’s right foot. The captive howled in pain, collapsing on the cold, damp ground, blood spilling from his wound. 

 

Oswald grinned gleefully. “What kind of message did you have in mind?”

 

“Give me your knife and I’ll show you.” Ed bent down to where their victim was writhing in pain, grasping his injured foot and sobbing uncontrollably. “Raymond,” he whispered. “Hey!” he slapped Raymond across the face, forcing his attention. “This will hurt a _lot_ more if you don’t keep still." Edward sliced Os’s knife down the terrified man's shirt, tossing the tattered rags aside to reveal his rapidly rising and falling chest. “This will be unpleasant,” he warned, grinning in anticipation. “for _you_ , but certainly not for me.” The knife pierced Raymond’s flesh, his body flailing widely in protest.

 

“Oh no you don’t.” Penguin sneered, stepping on one of their victim’s arms, placing his cane on his head. He watched as Ed climbed over the body, deepening the cut. Oswald was captivated, watching his friend go to work at carving his signature into the unwilling flesh beneath him. He’d always known about the sadist Edward had had dwelling inside of him, but he’d rarely witnessed it for himself. The precision with which he performed all his actions was mesmerising. Not since Mister Leonard has the pair worked together so intimately, but seeing Ed straddling the bleeding body of their enemy was a sight Os knew he’d certainly like to see more of.

 

The Riddler stood up and admired his handiwork. The question mark carved into Raymond’s chest gleamed crimson in the dim light of the alley, blood trickling down his sides. “Your turn.” he handed the knife to Oswald who took it excitedly, propping his cane against the car door. 

 

“Oh yes, Raymond,” Penguin smiled, seeing the horrified look in the young man’s eyes. Oswald bent over the trembling body, retracing the question mark wound with his finger. “there’s more.” His handiwork was not nearly as neat as Ed’s, but the umbrella sat alongside The Riddler’s signature proudly, slowly disappearing behind the pooling blood now flooding the man’s body. 

 

“P-please, no more, no-“

 

Oswald stroked their captive’s face softly. “Oh don’t worry, I think they’ll get the idea from that.” he looked up at Edward who was beaming down that the pair of them. 

 

It was a risk, confirming for Barbara, Tabitha, and Butch that Oswald and he were working together, but it would be worth it. They were already on to him, so they may as well know that he was alongside the former king of the underworld, who happened to have a handful of freaks at his command. Ed smiled to himself, it certainly wouldn’t hurt. 

 

“You know,” Penguin looked back at Raymond. “there really is _no_ need for you to be alive to deliver this message.” Before there was time for a protest, Oswald slid the knife along his victim’s throat seamlessly, and watched the life slowly vanish from the his eyes. “Goodbye, friend.”

 

Edward was having trouble containing his excitement, it was perfect. His heart raced as blood gushed out of Raymond’s neck, covering Oswald in a manner reminiscent of their escape from The Court. “We should get going,” he held out his hand to help Os to his feet. “it would be a shame if the GCPD turned up now.”

 

The pair hurriedly put the dead man in the back of Ed’s car, and headed out into the night. Oswald desperately wanted to drive to The Sirens as fast as possible, but knew they could not afford to draw attention to themselves. He could see Edward deep in thought out of the corner of his eye. “What’s wrong?”

 

Ed frowned. “I’m trying to think of the best riddle to leave with our new friend here.”

 

Oswald smiled, he should have known. In the past Edward’s penchant for brain teasers had confused and irritated him. The compulsive need to leave clues and make everything so damn _fancy_ was a mystery to him, but he appreciated the artistic nature of his friend’s method. 

After ten tedious minutes of driving through the city, Oswald saw they were coming up to the turnoff they needed. “Ready?”

 

“Ready.” Edward grinned excitedly, tucking his pen back into his breast pocket. The moment the car stopped he jumped out and dragged the lifeless body to the steps of the club. He pulled out his notepaper and read it over once more. ‘I am a ship that can be made to ride the greatest waves. I am not built by objects, but built by hearts and minds.’ It was not his finest work, but it would erase any and all doubt whether he and Oswald had teamed up or not. He slid the paper into what remained of Raymond’s shirt pocket, and dashed back to the car. No sooner had he closed the door were they moving again. The exhilaration of the evening swept over Ed as he leant against the leather seat, eyes closed and breathing deeply. The thrill of the kill, of leaving his mark, and seeing the look of terror in his victim's eyes was always guaranteed to get him worked up, but this was different, this was _better._ “We should do this more often.” he mumbled.

 

“I’m sure plenty more people will offer themselves up as a sacrifice.” Oswald chuckled. 

They travelled in silence for the remainder of the journey, Oswald occasionally sneaking glances at an exhausted looking Ed beside him. The younger man looked so peaceful resting against the door, his hands neatly resting in his lap. If Os didn't know better, he could have confused him for a _normal_ person. “You know, I was thinking, we could always relocate back to my old place.” he said as they pulled into Edward's hideout. It was something he’d been thinking about all day. Edward’s residence had the advantage of being a complete mystery to all but the two of them, and apparently Barbara, but it was hardly suitable for them both to be living in. “I’m sure by the time the sun rises the whole city will know I’m alive and we’re back together.” he smiled, throwing himself into the comfort of the couch. “ _Working_ together, I mean… obviously.”

 

Ed smiled wickedly as he removed his hat and hung up his coat. “Yes, we can talk about that, but not tonight.” He slowly walked to the couch, admiring Oswald’s blood-soaked body lounging in his blood-soaked clothes. “Aren’t _you_ a sight for sore eyes?” he mused, leaning in close to his friend’s face, his breath sweeping it’s way across Os’s cheek. “I’m starting to get used to you looking a mess.”

 

Oswald’s breath got caught in his throat and he suddenly forgot every word he’d ever known. Edward was not touching him, but he felt entirely suffocated, in the best possible way. In contrast to his own dishevelled appearance, The Riddler was still looking pristine, his neat hair pushed back, his white shirt as clean as it had been when they’d ventured out hours earlier, barley a speck of sweat on Ed’s perfectly chiselled face. He felt so unworthy, and so disgusting in comparison, but his concerns vanished the moment he felt those soft, warm, newly familiar lips pressing up against his own. Oswald opened his mouth invitingly, and wrapped his arms around Edward’s middle, pulling him into his lap. He felt big, soft hands grasp the back of his head, deepening their embrace until their bodies felt as though they had merged into one. Os shuddered as he felt Ed’s tongue brush against his own. 

 

“O-oswald,” Ed gasped as their lips momentarily parted. “I’ve been…thinking about… this… since the alley.”

 

Penguin smiled and kissed Edward even harder, his grasp on his waist tightening. “Is that so? Murder _inspires_ you, does it?”

 

“You could say that,” Ed mumbled as he ground his hips forward, prompting a soft gasp from the man beneath him. “though I’d say that _you_ inspire me.” he slowly moved his hands down from the back of Oswald’s head, down his neck to his chest, and started fiddling with the buttons of his blood stained shirt. Much to Edward’s delight, Os was so sensitive to every touch, with each movement his small body shuddered in anticipation, in pleasure. He tore his lips from the warmth of Oswald’s mouth and latched onto his neck, sinking his teeth as deep into the soft skin as he could without drawing blood. 

 

“Oh god.” Os cried softly, his nails digging into Ed’s hips. His shirt was now completely undone and he could feel eager hands working on his pants. The tongue and teeth scraping along his neck sent shivers throughout his entire body, Edward’s gentle hands a stark contrast to the love bites making their way up to his ear. 

 

“There’s something I want to do,” Ed whispered, his voice deep and husky. “I’ll stop if you want, just say the word.”

 

Oswald nodded, moaning softly as he felt The Riddler’s hands work their way into his pants and tug them down, along with his briefs, to his knees in one quick motion. The cool air swept over his body, and Os momentarily felt far more exposed than he would have liked, but his worries were quickly alleviated as Edward’s mouth returned to his body, gently nipping at his collarbone before his lips worked their way down his chest and stomach. The realisation of what Ed was going to do struck Oswald suddenly and he was filled with both terror and excitement. He opened his mouth to say something, he wasn’t sure what, but before any sound could reach his lips, he felt Edward’s mouth reach his crotch. Os breathed in sharply, his hands rested on his friend’s shoulders, unsure where else they should be. “Ed, I-“

 

“Do you want me to stop?”

 

“N-no.”

 

“Then be quiet.” The Riddler replied playfully, his hand grasping Oswald’s quickly hardening cock. It was larger than he had expected, not longer, but definitely thicker than Ed's own. On the one occasion Edward had seen Oswald without clothes, when he'd rescued him from the woods, he'd resisted the urge to remove that one final layer, despite his burning curiosity. 

He started stroking slowly, unsure how much experience Os had with this sort of thing, but also all too aware of his lack of experience. He supposed that, knowing what he himself liked, he could figure it out. Ed glanced up, continuing his gentle strokes, and saw Oswald leaning back into the couch, eyes closed, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Without averting his gaze from Os’s face, Ed leant down and ran his tongue along the full length in his hand, lingering on the tip. He smiled as he saw the smaller man’s face contort in pleasure, his mouth opening wordlessly, his hands running through his own dishevelled hair. On more occasions than he could recount, Ed had found himself in bed unable to sleep, these very images flashing through his mind, a mere fantasy he had thought would never be fulfilled, but as he continued to work his tongue up and down Oswald’s shaft, he couldn’t help but appreciate how much better the reality was compared to anything he had dreamed up. Even the taste was better than he'd imagined, an intoxicating mix of saltiness and sweetness, but best of all was the feeling of the movements of the man he loved writhing beneath him, trying and failing not to show how much he was enjoying the sensation of Edward's tongue on him.

 

Oswald clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to cry out. He knew Ed was watching him, he could feel his dark eyes on him and as self-conscious as he felt being so exposed, the knowledge also thrilled him. "Ed..." he murmured, eyes still firmly shut. "That's so good."

 

Edward smiled deviously, satisfied he'd finally got verbal confirmation for what he was doing. "You have _no_ idea." he grinned before taking the entire length of Os's cock in his mouth, sucking hard and circling his tongue around the head. 

 

There was no point trying to stay silent any longer. Oswald let out a loud moan and straightened up, his hands coming to rest on Ed's head, his fingers threading through his perfectly styled hair. His nails dug into The Riddler's scalp as his head continued to work its way obediently over Os's crotch. Oswald shivered each time he felt the tip of his cock become engulfed with Ed's eager tongue. He carefully pushed Edward's head down lower before releasing for him to come back up. Seeing no protest, he continued, each time pushing Ed to the base of his shaft, the head hitting the back of his throat. 

 

It was more difficult than he'd anticipated, but what Ed hadn't expected was how  _aroused_ giving head made him. He'd been resisting the urge to touch himself and instead focus all his attention on Oswald, but even without any contact, his cock was rock hard, pleading to be touched. Edward pushed those thoughts aside, and busied his hands at Os's crotch, pulling up his shaft along with his mouth, gripping tightly. He could feel the body beneath him tense and shiver with each movement of his lips, each caress of his tongue. He looked up, his eyes locking on to the pale green ones staring down at him. Oswald's face was still covered in blood, as was much of his torso, his hair was a mess and Ed could see tiny beads of sweat running down his chest. He was perfect.

 

"God, Ed..." Oswald muttered in between gasps. "I'm so close. I'll tell you when to-" Before he could finish, Edward's hands gripped firmly on to Os's hips, impaling his mouth down as far as it could go on to Os's cock. Penguin smiled and took the hint. His breathing quickened as he felt his orgasm build inside him. The bliss, the pleasure being given to him by his best friend, his love, such a beautiful, dark creature, was overwhelming. "Ed... I love you... Ed, I'm gonna..."

 

He knew it was coming, but Edward was still surprised by the amount. He dutifully swallowed and was sure to lick Oswald clean, glancing up with hungry eyes as he did so. Os was staring back, breathing heavily and speechless. Ed smiled in satisfaction, it wasn't often that his friend was left without anything to say. He pulled himself from his knees, and collapsed next to Oswald on the couch, wrapping his lanky arms around his middle. "I guess you liked that?" he asked, sweeping the smaller man's damp hair from his eyes and planting a soft kiss on his forehead.  

 

Oswald closed his eyes and leant in to Ed's chest. He rested there, listening to his slowing heartbeat, soaking up the warmth radiating off his body. He thought carefully, not wanting to say the wrong thing. 'Thank you', didn't exactly seem appropriate. He peered up, his head still snuggled against his love's long body. "It was about time that clever mouth of yours was put to good use." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The answer to the riddle is 'friendship'. Not mine, I stole it from Mr Google.


	8. Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward tells many truths and many lies, Oswald is reunited with an old friend and an old foe, and must make an agonising decision.

“I’m beginning to get used to this,” Ed smiled sleepily, running his long fingers through Oswald’s dishevelled black locks. “cuddling up next to you.”

 

“ _That_ I can happily deal with. I’m _more_ than used to waking up to you trying to squeeze me to death.” Os chuckled softly. “It’s like you’re worried I’ll run off in the night.”

 

The Riddler tensed, but did not respond. Truth be told, it _was_ a worry he’d had, that one morning he’d wake up and discover it had all been a wonderful illusion, or worse, that he’d screwed everything up, and his best friend had left him. For the past three nights his dreams had been filled with images of him doing the most despicable things, things he had once fantasised about with great excitement, various ways to maim and kill Oswald. But these days those dreams were nightmares, thoughts he was desperate to rid himself of forever, but they continued to haunt him, remind him of what he was capable of, whether he wanted to or not.

 

“Ed,” Oswald manoeuvred his small frame to face his companion. “there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask, but I’m afraid it might set us back.” he gently stroked Edward's face reassuringly, drawing his dark eyes down to meet his own gaze. “You don’t have to tell me, but I’m curious about something you said in the cemetery. You said… you said you tried to force yourself _not_ to love me, that you didn't _want_ to. What did that mean?”

 

Edward bit his lip and wrapped his arms around Os, pulling him in close so their chests were pressed flush together. “Oswald, you have to understand," he mumbled nervously. "I was afraid.”

 

“So was I.”

 

“I know, I know that now. These feelings I’ve had, they just seem to announce themselves at the most inopportune times.”

 

Oswald frowned. “I’m not sure there’s ever _really_ a great time to fall in love with your best friend.”

 

“N-no, that’s the thing,” Edward shook his head, fumbling for the right words. He'd known that this conversation would have to happen eventually, but he'd hoped to put it off for as long as possible. If there was one thing Ed wasn't particularly good at talking about, it was feelings, though Oswald always had a way of getting it out of him one way or another. “it started before that. This started in my old apartment, when I nursed you back to health after finding you in the woods. Of course it wasn’t exactly _love_ but there was something there. I knew instantly, like I was drawn to you, something akin to lust at first sight. But I was confused and couldn’t deal with those feelings then so instead I just tried to befriend you and hoped they would vanish.”

 

“What’s confusing about having a bit of a crush?" Oswald laughed softly, the image of an Ed Nygma from what seemed like so long ago, a different time, hiding his infatuation, springing to life before him. "You’d obviously experienced that before.”

 

“Not for a man, I hadn’t.” Ed explained. “But it’s not even that, I was still coping with what had happened with Kristin, what I had _done_ to her. I felt… guilty for how I was feeling about you, like it was an insult to her memory." he winced at the thought of Kristin, a vision that still occasionally haunted him. "It was a lot to deal with, being unsure about my sexuality, how I could have _those_ feelings for someone I hardly knew, someone in your… _position_ … and whether it meant that I no longer cared about what had become of Ms Kringle. It was a lot to handle so I did my best to shut it all out. Pretend it wasn’t there.”

 

Oswald breathed in deeply, no wonder Ed had issues with hearing voices when he had so much going on in his head at once. “Then what happened?”

 

“I quashed those feelings for you, for quite a while. They were always there, in the back of my mind, but they didn’t trouble me again until you got me out of Arkham. We started spending so much time together, and I started falling for you all over again. I was in awe of you, of all you’d done while I’d been locked up, all you were doing as part of the campaign, and I just wanted you to know how much I admired you. I told you that I would do anything for you, and it was true, it still is. That night at The Sirens, after Butch tried to strangle me… that’s when I decided that I was going to try and find the courage to tell you how I felt, and I found that courage.” Ed paused, wondering whether he should lie and spare Oswald the pain of the truth. Edward was a good liar but if anyone could see through his mistruths, it was Penguin. He took a deep breath, and tightened his grip around his companion's small, warm body. “That night when we were going to have dinner, right after I got home from buying wine… I was going to tell you.”

 

Oswald knew what Ed was going to say before the words left his lips, but they still cut through him like a thousand tiny razor blades, straight through his heart. “The same night I was going to tell you.” he whispered sadly. He blinked away the tears resting in his eyes, and pressed himself deeper into Edward’s chest. 

 

The Riddler nodded. He could feel dampness seeping through his undershirt, the knowledge that he’d given the man he loved yet _another_ reason to cry destroyed him. “Obviously things didn’t go to plan.” he murmured, stroking Oswald’s back comfortingly. 

 

“We were so _close_.” Os sobbed softly. “So close… and _they_ took that away.”

 

“We don’t know that for sure yet, but we will soon, once we’ve got Strange.”

 

Oswald looked up at Ed, his eyes puffy and red. “We _do_ know that. At least _I_ do. And once we have proof, I will not rest until each and every last person responsible has been hung, drawn and quartered.”

 

Edward nodded and smiled weakly, knowing there was no point in pushing the matter. He definitely _hoped_ Oswald was correct.

 

** *** **

 

Oswald spent much of the morning sulking as he sat alone on the couch. Ed had considered approaching him a few time, but knew better than to try and offer any words of comfort. Nothing he could say could change what had happened, and what hadn’t happened, between them, all they could do now was to try to right the wrongs of the past. 

Edward glanced across the room at his friend. Still on the couch, still looking vacant, as though his mind was racing at a million miles per minute. One thing he didn’t look was worried, which concerned Ed greatly. After their adventures, or misadventures, the previous night, he kept looking over his shoulder, half expecting Barbara to barge in any moment and put a bullet in each of their heads. But nothing. Not a peep, not until- _ping!_ Ed pulled his phone out of his trouser pocket. The woman had impeccable timing. He opened the text, **_We need to talk. Now. Non negotiable_** _._ While he didn’t exactly _fear_ Barbara, or Tabitha and Butch for that matter, Edward was smart enough to know he could not afford to anger any of them any more than he already had. The Riddler pulled on his jacket and made his way to the couch. “I have to head out briefly,” he smiled, putting on his hat and kissing Oswald softly on his forehead. “I won’t be long.”

 

Os didn’t budge, his intense stare at the white wall continued as he felt Ed kiss him and head for the door. He was alone, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been alone. Since being pulled from the river he’d been with Ivy, then The Court, then Edward, but never _alone_. Ed had often gone on errands while they’d been staying at his compound, but he’d always told Oswald where he was going. This was different. Penguin took out his phone and dialled the only number he’d bothered memorising. “Ivy? Any word? You _what_! Why didn’t you tell me be… anything _else_ you want to tell me can wait… yes… of course, I’ll be there in a- oh damnit. Ed just went out, he took the car. Take my car from the mansion and come and get me. What do you _mean_ you can’t drive? Get Brigit to drive! Victor! I don’t _care_ , just come, now!” he snapped the phone shut, equal parts frustrated and exhilarated. They’d found Strange. 

 

** *** **

 

Edward paused before entering The Sirens. Unlike previous other times he’d been, this time he was _sure_ he wasn't going to get anything resembling a warm welcome, even from Barbara. He double checked the guns he’d slipped into his breast pocket and belt were still there. Check. Taking a deep breath, he stepped over the threshold, and put on a mask of confidence, hoping it would look genuine. “Ladies,” he greeted cheerily, arms wide open. “and you.” he scowled at Butch who did not bother to extend a welcome. “To what do I owe the honour of your invitation?”

 

“Don’t play dumb with me, Nygma,” Barbara spat, already in one of her moods. “what the _hell_ was going on last night? Penguin was _right there_ and you didn’t take him out. Then you go out and _murder_ our guy _with_ him? I seem to recall we got in this mess because the four of us tried to kill that tiny bastard and then _you_ failed to kill him, with a gun at point blank range. A pathetic little man half your size who can’t even run from you! What should we make of all that, huh?”

 

He’d practiced his speech a hundred times on the way over, but suddenly could not remember any of it. He’d have to think on his feet. “There’s been a change of plans.” Ed told the trio, trying to gauge their reactions, but seeing only blank stares directed at him. “There was no way to take him out with those freaks by his side, one shot in his direction and we’d all be burnt to ash… or heaven forbid turned into ice blocks.”

 

“And what about Raymond, huh?” Tabitha enquired, her fingers tapping on the hilt of her gun.

 

“A necessary casualty,” Edward explained. “Once the fun police arrived and you three so bravely scattered, I had to align myself with someone. Penguin and the freaks seemed like a good option at the time.”

 

Barbara frowned. “Why on earth would Oswald think you were on his side?”

 

“Gosh you guys are dim. All you need to know, is that Oswald thinks we’re buddies again, ok? He forgave me for shooting him, he thinks we’re working together to get to the bottom of this Court nonsense because I convinced him they set me up to kill him. Truth be told, I’m much more interested in finding out about _them,_ than exacting revenge for something Penguin may have done months ago.”

 

“You idiot!” Barbara stood up her fists clenched as though she were ready for a fight. “We _need_ to get rid of him _now!_ Before he gets any more of those monsters.”

 

“And what good will that do if The Court are still around, huh? You think that woman was the only one? Of course not, there’s _more_ and even if Penguin is out of the way, you still wont be top dog because you’ll always be second to _them._ Barbara, we have bigger fish to fry, and we can use Oswald to cook them.”

 

Butch looked between the pair in astonishment. “Babs, you’re not _buying_ this psycho’s lies are you? This is ridiculo-“

 

“Shut up, Butch!” Barbara growled. She closed her eyes and breathed slowly, considering the green man’s words carefully. Being queen had been far tougher than she'd anticipated. While she'd had no problems dealing with the gangs day to day, these bigger issues kept cropping up and ruining her reign. “He’s right.”

 

“No he’s not!” Tabitha objected. “He sent us a note telling us he and Penguin were _friends_! They killed one of our guys _together._ ”

 

“Oh good, you understood my note, almost,” Ed smirked. “though I should have known you’d fail to pick up on the subtlety. The answer was of course, friendship, but I thought maybe one of you would have realised that it was meant as a friendship of convenience, not affection. And while we're throwing around accusations, who do I complain to about the attempted bugging of my car”

 

Tabitha ignored him and confronted Barbara, standing in between the two, staring directly into the blonde’s eyes. “Barbara, baby, he’s lying. This doesn’t make any sense, he’s just saying what you want to hear.”

 

“So you think _this_ doesn’t make sense, but it _would_ make sense for him to be best friends again with the guy who killed his girlfriend, huh? Yeah sure, that sounds right.” Barbara pushed her partner aside as she rolled her eyes and turned her attention once more to Ed. “Riddler, honey, let me tell you, if you’re lying to me now I will not shoot you and push you into the river. I will take that device you used on Tabby’s hand, and use it on _everything_ dangling from that long, skinny torso of yours. Capiche?”

 

Edward smiled. “I like your style, Barbara, very theatrical. Of course, you have my word.” He straightened his hat and headed for the door, pausing as his hand rested on the handle. “One of Penguin’s little friends should be able to help us locate Professor Strange, who knows more about The Court and Indian Hill than probably anybody else in this city. It wont take long. _Then_ we take out Oswald. I’ll call you.” Not bothering to look back, he strode from the club, letting out a massive sigh of relief. 

 

** *** **

 

“Where is he?” Os demanded as he barged into his old living room. Not much had changed, but the dining room table was conspicuously covered in junk. He’d deal with that later.

 

“He’s here, silly,” Ivy assured him, following Oswald into the room. “But first there’s som-“

 

“Hello, Oswald.”

 

Penguin froze on hearing the voice behind him. A chill went up his spine as he slowly turned around, already knowing what he’d see. “Fish.”

 

“It is _good_ to be back,” Mooney smiled, advancing on him slowly. “it’s been too long.” she ran her hand down his face, long fingers digging into the soft flesh of his jaw. “How are you, my dear Penguin?”

 

“I-I,” Oswald stammered, still not entirely sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “I’ve been better.”

 

Fish laughed. “Haven’t we all?” Don’t look so frightened, I mean you no harm.”

 

“Why are you here?”

 

“To deliver you a gift,” Fish replied, as though it were obvious. “Victor, bring in our friend.”

 

Os looked to the kitchen to see Brigit, closely followed by Fries who had his hands full. With Hugo Strange. “Professor,” he mumbled. “how good to see you again.”

Strange was in bad shape, being in captivity did not suit him. "Mister Cobblepot, p-please, we can sort this out." he stammered desperately as Victor dumped him in the centre of the room before Penguin. "Whatever it is that you and Ms Mooney want, I'm sure we can sort something out."

 

"Hmm, that's a good question, Fish, what  _do_ you want?"

 

The woman smiled wickedly. "I want what everyone wants," she explained in a slow, droll voice. "absolute power."

 

"Of course," Os chuckled. "I should have known."

 

"Oswald, you and I, we can run this city together. There's only one thing standing in our way."

 

Penguin stared at his former boss, in awe of her fearlessness and her determination. "Yes," he agreed. "The Court." He rounded on Strange. "I'm going to ask you once. Where can we find The Court."

 

Professor Strange looked up at Oswald and snickered gleefully. "If I tell you then I have nothing. I can't." he smiled as his red glasses glistened in the dim light. "You can torture me all you want."

 

Oswald laughed, looking at each of the freaks beside him. Never had an offer been so easy to accept. "Okay!" he replied enthusiastically. As Strange had been talking he'd spotted something delightful on the dining table, something that was perfect for the occasion. "You know, when I was in Arkham, I was tortured daily."

"No, well that was therapy, Oswald. Therapy." Strange interjected. 

"That device you used to administer the therapy, remember that?" Penguin asked, invading the Processor's space so they were nose to nose. "It gave the sensation that your head was being torn open so that hot lava could be poured directly into your brain. Afterwards, just thinking of it would make me physically ill." he explained to his fellow freaks as he hobbled to the table to pick up the device. "How kind of Fish to bring it here."

 

** *** **

 

Edward had hardly been gone an hour, but by the time he'd returned to the hideout, Oswald was missing. He checked his phone. No messages. No note. Nothing. One hundred thoughts ran through his mind at once. At least he could be sure The Sirens trio didn't have him, that would be a disaster. Would it be weirdly possessive of him to send a text asking where he was? Surely not, given their circumstances. Though, by now word was no doubt out that Penguin was back so it's not like he had to continue hiding. Ed reached for his phone again, but a voice stopped him. 

 

"Hold it."

 

Edward sighed. "Oh, Butch, who let you in here?"

 

"We let ourselves in." Tabitha responded, advancing on Ed with her gun drawn. "I don't know what the deal is with you and Penguin, but it ends now. Where is he?"

 

"I don't know."

 

"Oh, something the brilliant  _Riddler_ doesn't know!" Butch mocked. "Don't be smart,  _where is he?_ "

 

"If I knew I wouldn't tell you, but regardless, I really don't know." Ed spat back at him, desperately trying to think of an escape plan.

 

"I don't get it, he kills your girl, and now you're buddies again? Don't pretend it's a ruse, we don't buy it. Barbara may fall for your schtick but we see right through it. What's your end game, Nygma?"

 

"My... relationship with Oswald is not of anybody's concern. My desire to rid Gotham of The Court, however,  _should_ be.  _That,_ is very real."

 

Tabitha frowned in confusion but did not lower her weapon. "'Relationship'? What? Jesus, Nygma-"

 

"I told you it doesn't concern you, but-" Ed breathed in deeply, hoping he was making the right choice. "If you  _must_ kill him, by all means, but I'd really rather you didn't." The plan he and Oswald had created the day before had gone right out the window. He'd had multiple opportunities to put it back on track, but faulted at each turn. Edward silently cursed himself, it was too late now, the damage was done.

 

"We don't really care what you  _want._ " Butch told him through gritted teeth. "Where. Is. Penguin?"

 

** *** **

 

Oswald sat back in his father's old leather chair, calmly sipping on brandy in front of the fireplace. Strange was unconscious, Brigit and Victor were fighting, Fish and Ivy were... who knows, who cares? It was brilliant. He smiled wickedly at the Professor's limp, singed body. Revenge was sweet. He wondered if Edward was back at the compound yet; without knowing where he'd gone it was hard to say. Maybe he should call hi-  _ping!_ Os pulled out his phone and flipped it open. A text from Ed.  ** _Come home. I need you._** Oswald frowned. While he and Edward had certainly been getting closer of late, this was out of character. "I need you?" he mumbled aloud.  _Ping!_ Another text.  _ **Alone.**_ "Huh." It definitely wasn't something he'd  _expect_ Ed to say, but then again, his friend had been saying a lot of things recently that Oswald had never expected. Maybe this was The Riddler's way of trying to get them to reconnect after an awkward morning? Penguin shrugged, it'd be easy enough to find out. He swallowed the rest of his drink and headed out to his car.

 

*******

 

" _That's_ what you sent him?" Ed chuckled softly, glancing at his phone lying on the floor where Butch had tossed it after texting Oswald. "That is quite _obviously_ not something I would send. Where's the elegance?"

 

"Shut your smart mouth." Butch grumbled, smacking Ed across the back of the head.

 

Edward scowled but stayed silent. Tabitha had tied him up securely enough that not even he could struggle free. With his hands tied behind his back and his ankles bound together, there was very little he could do to escape, he'd just have to hope that Oswald would bring reinforcements. Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. Then thirty. Where  _was_ he? Just as he was giving up hope, Ed heard a car pull up outside. He let out a sigh of relief, but the relief was short lived.

 

" _Why_ are we here?" Barbara's shrill voice called from the front door. "And  _why_ is he tied up?"

 

"Because this is the only way to show you what's  _really_ going on." Tabitha told her. "You wont listen to reason, so now we have to resort to this."

 

"It's a bit much, isn't it?" Oswald asked from across the room. He strode in confidently, trying not to lean too much on his cane. 

 

Butch jumped and looked over at him. "You just keep appearing out of thin air, don't you Penguin?"

 

Os smiled and looked the group over. Ed was tied up but otherwise looked unharmed. "So, what is this little party in aid of?"

 

Tabitha turned her gun to Oswald. "Start talking. What's happening with you and this creep." She kicked Ed hard in the ribs, causing him to keel over in pain. " _He says_ you're working together to bring down The Court. Sound right?"

 

Oswald nodded. He and Ed had discussed their plan at length, they'd rehearsed exactly what to say and do down to the final detail. 

 

"He _also_ told us that he's playing you," Butch grinned, not disguising the glee in his voice. "using you and your  _freaks_ to take out The Court, right before he takes out _you_. How about that, does that sound right as well?" 

 

Penguin froze. This was not part of the plan. He looked down at Edward, his eyes pleading for answers, but he found none. He looked back up at Butch confidently. "Oh please, I would know if that were the case." he laughed, sounding more confident than he felt. 

 

"Would you? Your judgement has not been the best of late."

 

It was true, Os knew, but this he was sure of. He had known Butch Gilzean a long time and this is the _exact_ ploy he would pull. "Why should I believe,  _you,_ of all people?" he spat, scowling at his former right hand man. 

 

"I'm glad you asked," the gangster replied, pulling a tape player from his pocket. He pushed play and Ed's voice rang out through the compound. ' _One of Penguin’s little friends should be able to help us locate Professor Strange, who knows more about The Court and Indian Hill than probably anybody else in this city. It wont take long. Then we take out Oswald.'_ Butch smiled as the look on Oswald's face turned from smug to anger in a second. "How's _that_ for proof?"

 

"Oswald, that's not the truth, I was just  _saying_ that to them earlier." Edward protested. He looked up at Penguin desperately and was saddened by the conflict he saw in his friend's eyes. This mess was his fault, if only he'd stuck to the plan, _Oswald's_ plan. "You have to believe me." 

 

"You little bastard," Barbara screeched, crossing the room in great bounds, and slapping Ed across the face. "I vouched for you, and this is what I get?" she took her pistol from her purse and handed it to Oswald. "Ossie, do it, now. If you do, we're good." she demanded.

 

Penguin fumbled the gun being shoved into his hands. He looked at it, then down at Edward whose dark gaze was still locked on him. "Ed..."

 

"Please, Oswald, you know me, you know this isn't true." he pleaded. To hell with Barbara, to hell with the other two, if he was going to die, it would be by one of their hands,  _not_ by Oswald being tricked into it. Not after all they'd gone through together. 

 

Oswald breathed deeply, his hand holding the gun trembled nervously. "Ed, what you said... you said they could kill me, after we were done with The Court. I know how important it is to you to get the truth... it makes me wonder..." he ran his thumb over the butt of the gun, inspecting it closely. 

 

"No, no,  _please_ Oswald, if I was trying to deceive you, why put myself through all  _this_? All we've gone through together since our escape, you think that was all fake? Me and you?"

 

"I don't know what to think." Flashes of the past two weeks sped through Oswald's mind. Their escape, their fights, their first kiss in the cemetery, all of their other firsts, waking up in each others arms... It whirled through him like he was watching somebody else's life play out. Could it have been fake? Would Edward  _really_ go to those lengths just to get answers about The Court? Surely not... and yet? He had been wrong before. He had been  _fooled_ before,  _by_ Ed. He wracked his brain, trying to think of  _something_ to convince himself he was wrong, that Edward had been genuine all along, what they had together was  _real._ But instead, all he found was doubt. How could someone as beautiful as Ed possibly love someone like  _him_? No, no, the cemetery,  _that_ was real emotion, nobody can fake  _that_. But if anyone could, it was Edward. Oswald's pulse quickened as he struggled with the millions of thoughts bombarding his mind at once, each contradicting the last. He needed time to think, but that was a luxury he could not afford. He looked up at Barbara, Butch and Tabitha who all looked equal parts furious and delighted at the scene playing out before their eyes. He'd never trusted Ed after being pulled from the harbour, even as their relationship had evolved since their escape, doubt had lingered in the back of his mind. Despite the love in his heart, his head could not come to terms with it all. 

 

As much as he tried to hold back, Ed could feel tears welling in his eyes. Hours ago. Mere  _hours ago_ they'd been in bed together, only a few feet from where they were now. Oswald had woken him up with his tongue running up his neck, his teeth gently biting on his ear. At first Edward had thought it was another one of his dreams, of which he'd had many about his friend, but the feeling of a hand creeping into his briefs was far more real than any dream he'd ever had. _Hours ago._

 

Oswald handed the gun back to Barbara. "I have a better idea." he explained in response to her look of shock and anger. "Come on in!" he called out to nobody in particular.

 

"Who are you-"

 

Tabitha's query was answered before she could finish it. Victor Fries stepped through the door of Ed's hideout, his metal suit causing an echo of clangs to ring out with each commanding step he took.

 

Oswald hadn't taken his eyes off of Ed who was looking just as confused as Barbara. Tears were slowly running down his sharp cheeks, his glasses fogging up. "How could you?" Os muttered sadly, doing his best to keep his voice steady. Penguin took a deep breath to compose himself before giving the order. "Do it."

 

Ed's eyes widened as he realised what was happening. "Os, Oswald no, I lo-"

 

Victor's ice gun exploded over The Riddler, a frozen prison trapping him immediately, as he cried out in desperation to Oswald.  

 

Barbara laughed in delight. "Wow Ossie, you still have  _style_!" she turned to look at Butch and Tabitha who were staring at frozen Ed in shock. "Good enough for me! Now, Oswald, dear, do we need to worry about you causing any problems? I don't want to have to keep coming for you, it's very time consuming, but I _do_ enjoy our little business meetings. Maybe an agreement can be reached, as long as you're willing to accept being number two?"

 

Oswald smiled, ignoring the looks of fury coming from Butch and Tabitha. "You needn't worry, I have other things on my mind." he assured her. He turned back to the ice block before him and studied it carefully. Ed's expression had been captured in mid-speech. It was beautiful in a way, frozen capturing the moment he was expressing his love. Once Barbara had lead her counterparts out, Os turned to Victor. "It'll work, wont it?"

 

"It should."

 

"What do you mean  _should_?!" Penguin exclaimed. "You assured me you'd got it sorted."

 

"Like I said," Victor replied. "It should."

 

Oswald looked back at the ice and ran his hand over it. "Sorry Ed, this is just how it has to be."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously inspired by the finale. But this chapter is NOT this story's finale :)
> 
> 19.6.17 grammatical fixes, some minor additions made.


	9. Anew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why is he still frozen?” Oswald demanded as he paced his living room. They’d managed to get the Edward icicle back to the mansion for Victor to defrost him, a trial that had taken far more work than any had anticipated. Two days later, the ice block still stood in the centre of the room, Ed’s pleading face staring out at them through the frost. Os studied it carefully. He needed Edward out now, he needed answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made some semi-significant additions to chapter 8, though it's not like this one will not make sense if you haven't read the updated version (I also went back to correct every chapter for spelling/grammar, that's what happens when I'm my own beta, unfortunately. Chapter 9 has not been beta'd).
> 
> Sorry for the lateness, have an extra long chapter.

“Why is he _still_ frozen?” Oswald demanded as he paced his living room. They’d managed to get the Edward icicle back to the mansion for Victor to defrost him, a trial that had taken far more work than any had anticipated. Two days later, the ice block still stood in the centre of the room, Ed’s pleading face staring out at them through the frost. Os studied it carefully. He needed Edward out now, he needed answers.

 

Victor sighed, “It’s not a quick fix. Let me talk to Strange, maybe it’ll be easier if we both work on it.”

 

“Ha,” Oswald scoffed, “as if he’d help us. Though maybe the threat of that mind melting device would sway him. Very well, do what you’ve got to do.” he watched Fries depart out the corner of his eye, leaving him alone in the room with his frozen friend. Just as Penguin had started believing that he could trust Edward, _this_ had happened. Why hadn’t Ed stuck to their plan? Either he was a fool, or a liar, and Os was having difficulty deciding which was more likely. He tore his eyes away from the ice, unable to look upon The Riddler’s frozen declaration of love for a second longer, and headed to the kitchen. Surely he did not want to watch Victor and Strange defrost him, that did not sound like an enticing sight.

Oswald found Ivy sitting on the kitchen bench sipping tea.

 

“So Pengy, why’d you take my potion?”

 

Oswald frowned and grabbed a teacup for himself. “Why do you think? It’s a useful concoction you’ve cooked up.”

 

Ivy shrugged. “So, you used it then? I mean, besides that time you made me give it to that Court lady?”

 

“We’d planned to use it more but did not get the chance. Edward and I only experimented a bit on each other.”

 

“Ooh!” Ivy’s eyes lit up in excitement. “I bet _that_ was fun, what happened?”

 

“Not now,” Oswald told her dismissively. “it’s complicated.”

 

The young woman smiled knowingly. “He told you he _likes_ ya, didn’t he?”

 

Penguin rolled his eyes and set down his tea. “I’m not having this conversation with a _child_.” he explained. “Edward and I are… going through a transition phase in our relationship, let’s just leave it at that.”

 

“Ok.” Ivy giggled as she jumped off the bench. “So what’s next, boss?”

 

“I'm not sure,” Oswald answered honestly. “I was hoping Ed would be defrosted by now so we could get some answers out of him. Things certainly didn’t go as I’d anticipated with Barbara and the others, I need to know why he strayed from our plan. The whole point we were doing any of this was to get an answer about Isabe-“ Os paused, suddenly realising how foolish he’d been. Grabbing Ivy by the wrist, he walked them to the living room. “Strange!” he yelled, seeing the Professor standing alongside Victor, inspecting frozen Ed.

 

“Yes?”

 

“The ice block can wait, I need you to tell me everything about one of the the clones at Indian Hill.”

 

Professor Strange smiled sinisterly. “I was wondering why you hadn’t asked yet,” he said in a low, droll voice. “what do I get in return for this information you so desperately seek?”

 

“You get to live.” Oswald answered flatly. They’d had the Professor hostage for three days and it hadn’t even crossed Os’s mind to quiz him on the one thing he and Ed had been searching for, until now. “You give me the answers I need, you help Mr Fries defrost Edward, and you get to live, freely. You can tell me of your own accord, or I can get Ivy here to force it out of you.”

 

Strange considered this for a moment, and nodded, seating himself on the leather couch by the fireplace. “What exactly do you want to know?”

 

“There was a clone named Isabella.”

 

“Ah yes,” the professor smiled. “you had her murdered.”

 

Oswald gulped and sat in his father’s chair. “Tell me about her.”

 

“She was one of our success stories, until she met an… untimely end.” Strange explained. “The Court told me they needed a clone of a woman who had been killed some eighteen months prior. I wasn’t sure it would be possible, but when The Court asks for something, one does not dare say ‘no’. I managed to clone her, for the most part, I’m not sure why but the hair wasn’t quite right. The woman in charge, Kathryn, said it wouldn’t matter. She had me impart knowledge into the clone, things that the source of her DNA would have known about your friend Mr Nygma. Kathryn wanted to send the clone after him, to distract him and trigger your fall from grace.”

 

Penguin was trembling, his shaking hands gripped the leather of the armchair firmly. He had been right. He looked up at frozen Edward, then back at Strange. “You did _that_ to Ed, you tormented him with the image of his dead girlfriend, to get to _me_?” he asked incredulously.

 

“From what I understand, The Court had no real interest in _killing_ you. You were doing a fine job of ruling the underworld, but you ended up with far too much power, plus it became clear from the very start of your mayoral career that you would not be bargained with like Mayor James, and The Court just could not allow one man to yield so much control over Gotham City. Besides, had they killed you, Mr Nygma would have taken over both your thrones, and he would have posed the same problem. They needed to separate the two of you, separate the book smarts from the street smarts, so to speak.”

 

“And apparently the best way to do this was to send in a clone?”

 

Strange chuckled softly. “It’s now how _I_ would have done it, but you must admit, it worked, didn’t it? I doubt they anticipated that you would have the clone killed in a jealous rage, resulting in Mr Nygma then going on to make an attempt on _your_ life, but they still got what they wanted. They got rid of you as mayor, they got Aubrey James back in, and they didn’t even need to worry about you in the underworld. Though I doubt they had much luck dealing with Ms Kean.”

 

Oswald breathed in deeply. “They probably did not anticipate Ed going off the deep end after I _died_ either.” he thought out loud.

 

“ _That_ was an interesting development,” Strange agreed. “they most likely would have been better off not bothering with either of you. You are easily corrupted, Mr Cobblepot, as much as you try to play the good and the bad side by side, you would not have lasted long as an honest politician. The Court got impatient, and wanted a quick fix. Instead they just created more problems.”

 

“If The Court had let us be,” Os mumbled to himself. “Ed would have confessed his feelings for me, I would have reciprocated, and we could have been happy. We could have avoided all of this, hell, Kathryn would probably still be alive.” he ground his teeth angrily. “So they decided the best way to separate the two of us was to send in Edward’s dream girl? What a needlessly complicated plot, no elegance at _all_.” he scoffed, standing and picking up the bottle of scotch he kept over the fireplace.

 

Strange shrugged. “The Court aren’t known for doing anything by halves. I suspect they saw it as an opportunity to experiment some more with the clones _and_ to dethrone you. Kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. After the separation of yourself and Mr Nygma was complete, the clone would have been recalled and probably killed, it's not like they could have left her to go wandering around Gotham forever, word would have got out. Dead woman walking.” he smirked.

 

“Fine,” Oswald sighed, downing a mouthful of the alcohol straight from the bottle. “that’s all, get back to work with Victor, I expect Edward to be defrosted by the morning.” he hobbled towards the stairs, scotch still in hand.

 

“Pengy,” Ivy called in a hushed whisper as she followed him out of the room. “you’re not really going to let him go, are ya?”

 

Os looked back to the living room. “No. He’s going to defrost Ed, he’s going to give us information on how to reverse Victor’s condition, like I promised him, and then I’m going to kill him. Slowly.” he replied solemnly. It was no more than the Professor deserved, and Oswald was looking forward to dealing out justice, no matter how long it took.

 

** *** **

 

Oswald’s dreams were torturous. One moment he was back on the dock with Ed, once again having a gun pointed at him. Edward was explaining how he had played Oswald again, how he had only pretended to breathe in the perfume, how he had forced himself to do those disgusting sexual acts with Oswald to earn his trust, to make the _second_ heartbreak all the more painful. Then he shot him, over and over, but Oswald would not die. Instead he felt each bullet enter him, tear through his flesh, but he did not fall into the harbour. Instead he stood there, waiting for another bullet. After his mind could not take another assault on his body, his dream would switch to Edward’s hideout. They were back in bed, The Riddler’s long arms wrapped tightly around Oswald, holding him close. His soft lips pressed against his chest and neck, his fingernails running deep down Penguin’s slender torso. And just as Os began to relax, just as the dream started to feel real, he was back on the dock, looking up into the dark eyes of his would be killer. The cycle repeated over and over, not allowing Oswald to die, nor allowing him to feel the happiness he’d previously felt while under Ed’s hypnotic spell.

 

“Penguin! Penguin!” a distant voice called out. It was a woman, a young woman, but Oswald could not tell where it was coming from. “Penguin!” now he was shaking, it wasn’t another bullet, his whole body was swaying back and forth. “ _Pengy_!”

 

Oswald felt a hard slap across his face and he woke with a start. “Wha?” he looked around urgently, sweat dripping from his body onto his sheets. Another bad dream. “Ivy?” he frowned at the figure standing beside his bed.

 

“They did it, they defrosted the riddle guy!”

 

Leaping to his feet, Os started tugging off his pyjamas, not caring Ivy was still in the room. He headed for the stairs, still buttoning his shirt and entered the living room to a sight he’d never expected to see in his father’s old house. Victor was lounging on the couch, a look of exhaustion across his face. Strange had been restrained, seemingly by Ivy, based on the vine ropes around his wrists and ankles, and in the middle of room lay Ed in a puddle that covered the entire room.

 

“Is he _dead_?” Oswald asked, worried.

 

“No,” Victor mumbled sleepily. “his pulse is very weak, but he’ll live. Just warm him up.”

 

“So he’ll be ok?”

 

Strange laughed softly from the corner of the dim room. “ _That_ remains to be seen.”

 

“What do you mean?” Os insisted, trying to pick up Ed’s lanky, soaked body.

 

“Mr Nygma is the first human to be defrosted from this state,” the Professor explained. “we don’t know what the side effects might be, and we wont until he regains consciousness. _If_ he regains consciousness.”

 

Oswald’s eyes widened in alarm. He looked down at Edward, whose skin was almost as blue as Victor’s. “Ivy,” he called. “help me get him upstairs, we’ll put him in a nice hot bath.

 

The pair dragged Ed’s limp body to the upstairs bathroom, Oswald excusing his young friend so he could undress The Riddler and slowly raise his body temperature. The steam reminded Os of the night they’d spent in the downpour in the cemetery. How he’d come back to Ed’s hideout and locked himself in the shower in an attempt to avoid having to talk to him. Now, as the warmth filled him up once again, he’d give anything to be able to talk to him. “Please be ok.” he mumbled, gently stroking Edward’s freezing face.

 

** *** **

 

Oswald had been drifting in and out of light sleep when he suddenly noticed how cold he was. He looked around him, still in the bathroom. Ed was still unconscious, his bath now cold, though not as icy as his skin. Os leaned in to remove the plug, turning on the hot tap to move along the warming process. He had no idea how long this was supposed to take, but he suspected rushing it would do no good. “I’m sorry, Ed, I thought this was the only way.” he muttered sadly. “I thought you’d be safe if I froze you.” _Safe not only from Barbara, but also from me_ , he thought. Oswald let his mind wander as he leaned up against the side of the bath. It was uncomfortable, and cold, but he did not care. He needed to be around when Edward woke up.

 

Os was pulled from his daydreaming by his phone vibrating in his pocket. He answered quickly, knowing who it would be. “ _Yes_ , Jim?” he grumbled. The only other people who had his number were Ed and Ivy, one of whom was unconscious, and the other downstairs. “I don’t _care_ , she did not give us any information that could possibly be of any use to _you_. Edward and I had our own reasons for hunting down The Court, and I have now collected all the information I need, what you do with the rest of that lot is no concern of mine. Oh you _heard_ , did you? Well maybe mind your own damn business,” Penguin was in no mood to be dealing with Detective Gordon. His insistent questioning was a continuous irritation, but usually he could grin and bear it. In this case, however, he was not willing to be so patient. “I don’t _care_ about the weapon or bomb or whatever you’re yapping on about, Jim. I have enough to deal with, thanks very much. Oh, you’re looking for Strange? Well good for you. I’ll tell Fish you said hi.” he flipped his phone closed and slid it across the tiled room, returning to his uncomfortable resting spot against the bath.

 

** *** **

 

For a change Oswald was not woken by yelling, by being hit, or by Edward squeezing him to death. He was woken by water. In the middle of the continuous shooting and snuggling dream he’d been experiencing on a loop, he was brought back to the land of the conscious thanks to a generous amount of water splashing on his head, soaking his hair, face and shirt. “What on earth?” he exclaimed, startled as he tried to pull himself to his feet. He reached for a towel and threw it over himself, hurriedly attempting to dry off.

 

“Oswald? What’s going on?”

 

Penguin looked down at the bath. Edward looked back up at him. Colour had returned to his face, his lips no longer blue, his eyes wide and inquisitive. Oswald smiled in relief and fell to his knees. “You’re alright!” he breathed a sigh of relief and wrapped his arms around Ed’s neck, pulling him in close. “I’m so glad you’re awake.”

 

“Why am I in a bath?” Ed frowned, attempting to sit up. “Did you use your friend’s perfume on me again?” he asked suspiciously. 

 

“Professor Strange said there may be some side effects,” Oswald said in concern, ignoring the question and handing Edward a towel of his own. “some sleep may do you good, now that you’ve reheated.”

 

“But, I don’t understand.”

 

Oswald helped Edward dry off and passed him a bag of new clothes he’d asked Ivy to buy. To say they weren’t Ed’s style would be an understatement. The panda patterned pyjamas would have been a perfect tacky Father’s Day present from a couple of eight year olds, but for the terror Gotham knew as The Riddler, not so much. But Edward did not seem to care, he pulled them on without protest and allowed himself to be tucked into Oswald’s bed with care. “I’ll explain tomorrow.”

 

** *** **

 

The fire crackled softly, the light flickering over Oswald’s feet warming beside it. He’d sent everyone to bed in one of the mansion's many guest rooms, there was nothing any of them could do, not immediately. He sipped on his scotch and looked into the flames.

 

“Big day, Oswald?”

 

Penguin smiled, not bothering to look up. “You could say that. What are _you_ so happy about?”

 

Fish sat on the couch, leaning towards the small man with a wicked smile spread across her face. “I know how we’re going to take back this city. It won’t be pretty, but when we land on our feet it won’t matter. We’ll have it _all_.”

 

The words piqued Oswald’s interest, but he was exhausted, and could hardly think about returning to the underworld just yet. Still, the offer was tempting, there wasn’t anywhere else, besides his mother’s house, he’d ever felt so at home than he did when he had been king. “What do you need me to do?”

 

“Nothing yet,” Mooney explained, leaning back into the leather. “I’ll borrow Victor and Brigit tomorrow for a little excursion with Strange. He knows the whereabouts of something that will be _very_ useful to us. In the meantime, you stay here and sort things out with that riddle boy of yours, do what you can to keep those nuisances from The Sirens off my scent, and we’ll be peachy.”

 

“Whatever you need, Fish.” Oswald agreed, still looking into the fireplace.

 

“Attaboy. Get some sleep, you’ve earned it.”

 

Oswald felt as though he’d been sleeping too much recently, but none of his slumber had been restful. His dreams continued to torment him to the point where any sleep he got was almost as stressful as his thoughts that plagued him while awake. He heard Fish’s footsteps vanish to goodness knows where and sighed in relief. Os wasn’t sure he could handle much more excitement, he just needed to unwind.

 

“They’ve finally all gone.”

 

Penguin jumped, not expecting the voice coming from the darkness. He turned around to see Edward, decked out in his panda pyjamas, walking towards him, taking a seat by his side on the floor. “What are you doing up? You should be resting.”

 

Ed frowned. “Why? I feel fine. Did something happen to me?”

 

“You really don’t remember.” Os mumbled. “What’s the last thing you can recall?”

 

“It’s hard to say, it’s all fragments. I remember going to see Barbara and the others. And I remember you not being home when I returned. Everything after that is a bit fuzzy.”

 

Oswald breathed in deeply. “But you do remember everything _before_ that, don’t you?”

 

Ed nodded. “Everything about us, you mean?”

 

“Well, and the rest of it, but yes, I suppose mostly that.”

 

“I remember. It feels like someone hit me over the head a dozen times, everything after returning to the hideout after The Sirens is a blur, but everything before that is crystal clear. It’s as though some memories have been erased and there’s just an empty spot in my brain where they used to be.” Ed explained, warming his hands by the fire. “I feel like I remember all the important stuff, but I am interested to know what happened, and _why_ I woke up in a _bath_.”

 

Penguin laughed softly. “The long and short of it is that I froze you, or rather, I had Victor freeze you.” he smiled on seeing the shocked look on his friend’s face. “It was for your own good,” he insisted. “I either had to shoot you with an _actual_ gun, or an ice gun. I chose the lesser of the two evils. Getting shot with an _actual_ gun hurts, you know. I’ll never shake the image of you shooting me, I’d hate for you to be haunted by that same image.”

 

The Riddler remained silent. He knew Oswald must have had his reasons, but _freezing_ him? **What if he couldn’t have brought you back?** Other Ed snarled in his ear. **Maybe that’s what he was hoping, he didn’t _really_ want you to live, but it was convenient at the time. He just wanted a trophy and now he’s _guilting_ you about it? After he _froze_ you? Ha! That’s rich.** Edward closed his eyes to block the voice out, attempting to concentrate on the sounds of the fire, the smell of Oswald’s scotch, the softness of his pyjamas and the fur rug beneath him. No, the voice was wrong. He’d asked Oswald if he was trustworthy under the duress of the perfume and he told him he was. _That_ was the truth, he couldn’t lead astray by _him_.

 

“Are you ok, Ed?”

 

Edward nodded. “Yes, I’m ok, but I think I _would_ rather like to go to bed.”

 

Oswald helped his friend off the floor and lead him up the stairs. “I suspect we’ll have a big night tomorrow,” he explained, tucking his friend in for a second time that day. “Fish has something crazy planned with the others, but you and I are not needed. We can just stay in, maybe make a few calls to get some eyes on The Sirens, but that’s all until the evening I imagine.” he sat on the end of the bed smiling down at Ed lovingly. In that moment he did not care what The Riddler’s motives had been for straying from their plan, he was just happy to have him back.

 

“Oswald, when I said I wanted to go to bed, I was hoping that meant with you.” Edward said nervously, moving to the far side of the mattress.

 

Os blushed and kicked his shoes off before climbing under the covers beside Ed, wrapping the blanket around them both. It had only been a few days, but he’d missed it, the comfort and love he felt while laying so close to his best friend. He felt safe, even if deep down he knew he still needed to be on his guard. “You were only frozen for two days,” he explained, softly running his hand down Edward’s sharp, chiselled jaw. “but it felt like _so_ much longer.” Oswald exhaled slowly, unsure how much to fill Ed in on right away. “I must confess, I-“

 

“I don’t want to hear it.” Edward interrupted, holding a finger up to Os’s lips. “Whatever you have to say can wait.” he moved his hands to hold Oswald’s face gently, pulling him closer to kiss him tenderly. “You saved me, again.”

 

“I would do _anything_ for you.” Penguin murmured in response, wrapping his arms around Ed’s neck. He kissed him back hard, drinking in the warmth radiating off his body. “I’m undecided about these pyjamas though,” he eyed Edward’s outfit in bemusement. “I’ve gotten far too used to you looking the dashingly handsome rogue that I know you are, I’m not sure the pandas do you justice.”

 

Ed laughed softly. “Well, that’s an easy fix.” he pulled off his shirt and wriggled out of his pants, leaving him very naked. “Look at you, still dressed to the nines.”

 

Oswald was suddenly very aware that he was still wearing _all_ of his clothes, save for his jacket and shoes. He carefully folded his vest, shirt, and pants and placed them on the bedside table, leaving only a single layer between them.

 

“Feeling shy are we?”

 

“I just don’t want to be presumptuous.” Os smiled bashfully, running his hand down his friend’s warm chest.

 

Ed placed his hands on Oswald’s hips, hooking his thumbs under the elastic of his briefs. “I think we’re _way_ past that.” he smirked, colliding their mouths together as he removed the final piece of fabric in one swift motion. He pushed his tongue past the barrier of teeth and tasted the sweetness he’d been missing, feeling the softness of his friend’s lips and the intensity of his kiss. Edward reluctantly withdrew, pressing his forehead against his companion’s. “I love you, Oswald. I don’t know how to explain how much, but I want to try and show you.”

 

Breathing in deeply, Oswald felt his stomach lurch at the words. “I love you too.” was all he could muster in response. He felt Edward’s big hands and long fingers sprawl over his back, his fingernails digging into the flesh, leaving trails as they ran down from his shoulders to his hips, then back up again. He could already feel how aroused Ed was, pressed up against his stomach. It seemed that it took very little to get him going and Os wasn’t sure if he should be flattered or not. He decided not to overthink it, and instead took hold of Edward's erection and began stroking it slowly. He revelled in the instant response he received from his lover's body tensing and then relaxing so suddenly as Oswald's fingers worked their way over the head and down the shaft, gripping firmly. 

 

As much as he tried to keep his breathing steady, Edward found himself losing more control with each tender touch. He buried himself in Oswald's neck, biting firmly and tracing the marks left behind with his tongue. Os gasped softly each time Ed's teeth pressed into his skin, making him all the more eager to continue. He ran his hands past his small friend's hips to his backside, grasping it firmly in his strong hands.

 

Oswald tightened his grip with each new touch Ed inflicted on his body. He’d never considered himself an overly tactile person, but with Edward everything was different, he couldn’t keep away. “Ed,” he mumbled, moaning softly as the teeth on his neck moved down his collarbone towards his chest. “I want _more_.” 

 

Edward smiled against his friend’s warm skin and kissed his chest softly. “Then you’d better stop what you’re doing or you’ll be sorely disappointed.” he warned, manoeuvring his body out of Oswald’s eager reach. “I just want to be sure we’re wanting the same thing.”

 

“I want whatever it is that you want to do to me.”

 

“You may live to regret those words,” Ed teased. “though I certainly hope not.” he pushed Oswald hard, forcing him on his back, and climbed into his lap. He relished in the look of shock and desire in his small friend’s eyes as he pinned his arms above his head. “You are so _very_ beautiful, Oswald.” he murmured as he traced his fingers down Penguin’s chest, resting at his hips. “and I am going to make every inch of you _beg_ for me.”

 

Os strained at the hands on his wrists, knowing it was no use. Ed was so much bigger than him, and regardless, there was nowhere he’d rather be trapped than under his love’s strong, long body. “We’ll see about that.” he challenged, smirking as his pale eyes locked with the dark gaze, hungry upon him. While he had experimented a bit during high school, Oswald’s adult life had been notably absent of intimacy and he was only too eager to make up for lost time. “Do your worst.”

 

Never one to back down from a challenge, Edward’s eyes lit up as he considered the body beneath him. He _was_ beautiful, the various battle wounds notwithstanding. The only one he couldn’t bring himself to look at rested over Oswald’s stomach. 

Pushing aside the lingering thoughts of regret and trepidation, Ed leaned down to kiss Oswald firmly on his soft lips, reaching for the bedside table as he did so. He wasn’t sure what the protocol in these situations was. Should he ask permission? Should he warn Os of his intentions? While Ed usually prided himself on his way with words, this was one situation where he decided the fewer they exchanged, the better. He fumbled clumsily with the tube in his right hand, trying to manoeuvre himself subtly to not let on to his partner what he was doing. 

 

“Do you need a hand?” Oswald asked softly, breaking their kiss.

 

Edward blushed in the darkness. “No, I’m just trying to-“

 

“Don’t talk about it, just do it.”

 

After ensuring his fingers were adequately covered, Ed tossed the bottle aside and carefully ran his right hand down Oswald’s body until he reached his thighs. He pried them apart and looked up at his friend one last time, waiting for some kind of confirmation, or a protest, but instead Oswald’s eyes were closed, his breathing was slow, as he waited in calm anticipation. His eyes shot open as he felt Edward’s first long, slim finger enter him, slowly at first as he gauged the response. Ed paused, wondering if he should stop altogether. 

 

“I’m not begging yet, Ed.” Os smirked through gritted teeth. It was more uncomfortable than he had expected, but he knew that would not last. 

 

Edward withdrew and reentered immediately, not taking his eyes off of Oswald’s strained face. It looked like he was in pain, but he knew better than to question his friend on whether he really knew what he wanted. He picked up the pace, adding a second digit to speed up the process. He loved watching Os squirm beneath him, clenching his jaw in an attempt to hold in the noises that were so desperate to escape him. “Do you like that?” Ed asked rhetorically.

 

“Oh god, yes.”

 

The Riddler smiled and withdrew his hand, reaching once more for the tube on the other side of the bed. “I’ve got something else you might like even more.”

 

Oswald bit his lip to stop himself from giggling. He knew Ed was doing his best, but his dirty talk would need some work. He watched as his friend rubbed the slick substance over his cock, his long figure looking so delicate in the darkness. 

 

Leaning over the smaller man's body, Edward kissed him gently as he pushed himself inside, thankful for the preparation he'd done. Oswald let out a gasp, but Ed knew better than to stop. He continued until he was all the way in, and let out the breath he'd been holding inside. The tightness was overwhelming, as was the sight of his best friend, the man he loved, beneath him. He withdrew slowly, and pushed back in, tightening his grip on Os's legs for leverage. He tried to keep a consistent pace, despite the writhing going on underneath him. Pulling Oswald's body on to him, Edward slammed inside of him harder than he'd meant to, but it didn't seem to matter.

 

"Oh my god, Ed." Oswald whimpered softly, his hands grabbing on to the mattress tighter with each thrust.

 

Ed smiled and picked up the pace. "You feel so good." he mumbled in a low growl. 

 

Oswald opened his eyes enough to see his best friend holding on to him, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead, his usually immaculate hair a disheveled mess already. He was a thing of beauty. The pain and discomfort had subsided as Ed had fallen into a steady rhythm, now each thrust sent feelings of ecstasy through his entire body. Os reached out to grab Edward by the hips, pulling him in deeper, bringing them closer together, and clenched his eyes shut once more.

 

It had been so long since he'd last been in such a position with  _anyone_ , Ed was worried he wouldn't last. No, he had to at  _least_ let Oswald finish first. He reached to the top of the bed and grabbed a pillow, shoving it seamlessly under his friend's hips. He had no idea if it would have the desired effect, but it was worth a shot. He got the answer he was seeking almost immediately. The next thrust appeared to ignite something in Os as his eyes burst open and a loud moan escaped his lips. His hips bucked up towards him off the bed eagerly, he must be doing something right. "What do you want, my love?"

 

"I- I want..." Oswald replied breathily, the words kept getting caught in his mouth as Ed continued to slam into him mercilessly. 

 

Edward smiled triumphantly. "Beg me." he commanded, tightening his grip on Os's legs.

 

"P-please, Ed, please."

 

"Close enough." The Riddler conceded. He released one of Oswald's legs and grabbed on to his cock, stroking it as close to in time with his thrusts as he could. He felt his friend's breathing grow haphazard and his legs weaken. "Come on," he said softly. "you know you want to." No sooner had he spoken those words did Oswald comply, groaning loudly and digging his fingers into the sheets beneath them as he came. Ed's jaw dropped at the sight before him, the pleasure sweeping over Os's body was more than apparent, pleasure  _he_ had been the cause of. A handful of thrusts later and Edward joined him, straining to catch his breath and avoid collapsing on top of Penguin entirely. "Oh god, Oswald." he moaned, struggling to keep his balance as he braced himself against his friend's good leg.

Ed's arms were shaking as he attempted to force himself off of Oswald and back onto the bed. His breathing was haggard and his mind swimming in nothingness. He closed his eyes as sweat dropped from his brow onto his friend's chest. Smiling as he felt a soft hand push the hair from his face, Edward mustered the required strength to collapse on his back beside Oswald's warm body. He stared at the ceiling in awe and disbelief. Brief though it had been, sex had  _never_ felt that good before, not even with... no, he would not allow himself to think of her, not now, not while he lay next to Oswald. He tilted his head to watch his friend carefully make his way to the bathroom, his limp more apparent than usual. Sighing contentedly, Ed closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, everything may change for them in a day, in an hour, in a minute, but that did not matter. All that mattered was now.

 

After cleaning himself up, Os climbed back into bed and threw the quilt over them, turning on his side to face Ed. "I have been thinking about _that_ for  _so long_ ," he confessed breathily, taking hold of The Riddler's hand and stroking it gently with his thumb. "and those thoughts, those fantasies, weren't even  _close_ to reality."

 

"In a good way, I hope." 

 

Oswald smiled as he squeezed Edward's hand. "Of course."

 

Edward breathed a sigh of relief and turned to face his friend. Os looked entirely spent, his body had finally stopped trembling, but his eyes were heavy and his breathing soft. "That was a first for me," he said as he wrapped his arms around Oswald's slim waist. "I'm glad it was with you." he rested his head on top of Os's and pulled him in tight to his chest. They were both sticky with sweat but it did not matter, the closeness was all he needed.

 

“How did that even get into my bedroom?” Oswald asked inquisitively as Ed reached behind him and tossed the tube of lubricant onto the floor.

 

Ed smiled. “You know me, I like to be prepared. Good thing you didn’t clear out my old room or we would have had to make other plans for this evening.”

 

Oswald agreed wordlessly and allowed himself to relax into The Riddler's embrace. He could hear his heartbeat thumping in his ear, his soft breathing growing softer. It seemed like their evening was over in a blink of an eye, every part of his body ached, his head was pounding, but his heart was the happiest it had been in a long while.  "Good night, Ed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Initially this story was going to be 5 chapters, then 10, now I'm guessing 15. I have the ending planned already, but don't want to rush to it. We'll see how it goes.


End file.
